


Turn Around

by Nalanzu



Series: Ninjas Don't Need Coffee [1]
Category: Power Rangers Ninja Storm
Genre: Angst and Humor, Canon Compliant (Mostly), Canon-Typical Violence, Dimension Travel, M/M, Monster of the Week, Psychological Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-09
Updated: 2018-02-09
Packaged: 2019-03-15 22:08:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 27,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13622505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nalanzu/pseuds/Nalanzu
Summary: Lothor finally succeeds in breaking up the combined Wind-and-Thunder Ranger team - by getting rid of Cam.





	Turn Around

**Author's Note:**

> Repost from 2004, haha.

The image of Hunter and Blake helpless inside the building dominated Cam’s thoughts as he raced towards the growing flames. Any second now, the bomb would go off and reduce the structure to so much ash and rock, but he had to try to save them. He could hear Shane and Tori shouting behind him, but he couldn’t make out the words. Dustin was already incapacitated; at least the Yellow Ranger was still breathing. 

This monster was more dangerous than any he could remember; it hadn’t forced a head-on confrontation. The Rangers were simply too strong for any of Lothor’s goons to beat through pure force. Instead, it had kidnapped Hunter just as Hunter had once taken Cam, and when Blake had run after his brother, it had taken him too. Cam hadn’t been able to locate their Power signatures or their lifesigns, until the alien itself had contacted him with its ultimatum. 

Either the Rangers save their friends, or their friends would die. 

It was a trap. Of course it was a trap. And yet, they’d had no choice but to go in, not after seeing Hunter bruised and beaten, slumped protectively over a Blake in not much better condition. They hadn’t realized until they arrived that it was a trap in both the literal and figurative sense. 

The alien – it had yet to give itself a name, and Dustin had taken it upon himself to name it “Ugly” – had stood in the middle of an abandoned lot with its glittering misshapen arms folded over its protruding chest, thrown its malformed head back, and laughed. They had stopped uncertainly at the edge of the gravel. The building behind the alien – derelict, falling apart – was already burning. 

Cam had detected another energy source in the building, and right alongside it were the Thunder Rangers. He had glanced at the others. “You distract him, and I’ll go in,” he had told them quietly, adding unnecessarily, “They’re inside.” 

“Gotcha.” Dustin had probably been grinning as he replied and raised his voice. “Hey, Ugly!” He had waved madly at it. “Dude, what’re you doin’ all the way over there?” Cam had snuck off, not paying much attention to the Wind Rangers. His plan had been simple; he’d come around behind the building, get inside out of sight of “Ugly”, and bring Hunter and Blake out. 

No plan, however simple or well thought-out, ever survives the first engagement of battle. 

The second the Wind Rangers had stepped onto the lot, the traps had started to go off. The entire field had been – was still – rigged with pitfalls. Explosions had rocked the ground as the Wind Rangers had staggered and fallen back. Cam had paused, not sure if he should go back and help his friends. He had shaken his head and decided not to. They were much more competent than they had been when they’d gotten the Ranger powers. They’d be fine. At that moment, he had stepped upon the field. 

Ugly had left nothing to chance. Cam’s first footfall onto the gravel had tossed him to the ground again, panting from the shockwave. It had taken him a few seconds to realize that the gravel itself contained the explosives, but he had no choice other than to cross it. He had climbed to his feet and started forward again, only to find Ugly blocking his path. “Not so fast,” it had said. 

“Dustin was right,” Cam had returned. “You _are_ ugly.” He had darted past it, barely dodging each successive blast. Out of the corner of his eye, he had seen Dustin’s prone but still-morphed figure lying on the ground outside the lot, and Shane and Tori slowly getting up not far away. 

The monster had attacked Cam from behind, but he had met it with a spin kick and sent it flying towards the Wind Rangers. It had triggered its own traps as it landed, and he had felt a grim sort of satisfaction. He had been nearly upon the building before he had realized what the other energy source was. 

Ugly had planted a bomb, and the timer was steadily ticking down. 

Cam had paused and turned around. Shane and Tori had gotten their feet and were fighting, but Dustin still hadn’t moved. “Guys! The building’s going to explode! Get Dustin out of here!” He had paused and then shouted again. “I’m going in after Hunter and Blake!” 

The shouting behind him increased, but he still couldn’t quite hear what they were saying. “I know there’s a bomb,” he muttered, and ran faster. The fire intensified as he got closer, roaring in his ears like a living being. He threw up a hand against the heat and darted towards the door. Just as he reached it, the timer hit zero. 

Fire blossomed out of the doorway towards him, riding the edge of the blast. More quickly than he could register, the light changed from fire to sun and he dimly heard Shane start to apologize before he hit the ground and lost consciousness completely. 

* * *

The first thing to register was the sound of Tori’s concerned voice. “Cam? Cam? Are you all right? Come on, Cam, wake up.” 

He raised a shaky hand to his forehead. “I’m all right, Tori,” he said without opening his eyes. “Just give me a minute.” He cracked his eyes open, but the light was blindingly bright and he shut them again. Tori snaked an arm under his shoulders and helped him sit up. 

“Don’t move too fast, all right?” As soon as he was balanced, she drew away. Cam rubbed his eyes. 

“How’s Shane?” The last he had seen, Shane and Tori had been fighting the monster, and if she was here, then he was probably all right as well. It was the safest question to ask. 

“Shane?” Tori sounded genuinely confused. “He’s fine. He’s the one who hit you, remember?” 

Cam opened his eyes. He seemed to be on the lawn in front of Blue Bay University, and Tori was crouched in front of him. At least, it looked sort of like Tori, only with a lot of details wrong. For one thing, she was wearing red. “Uh… Tori?” 

She shook her head. “You forgot to eat breakfast again this morning, didn’t you. That’s probably why you fainted. Hang on, I’ll be right back. Shane!” She called this last over his shoulder, and Cam found himself confronted with a subtly unfamiliar Shane. 

This Shane crouched down in front of Cam, looking worried and somehow lacking the underlying sense of confidence that had characterized him since he’d been given the morpher. At least he was still wearing his color. “Hey, you all right?” he asked. 

“I’m fine,” Cam replied cautiously. Something bizarre was obviously going on. 

Shane nodded, relieved. “I really didn’t mean to hit you so hard, you know. I just didn’t look where I was going.” 

“Uh…” Cam shook his head slightly. “Yeah. Um.” He looked around. “Where are the others?” 

“Oh, Tor told you about them? Dustin’s late again. He usually is. He’s got no sense of direction.” Shane smiled apologetically. 

Cam regarded him warily; Shane usually didn’t…babble…quite so much. “Are you all right?” he asked. He knew he was asking a lot of questions, but it was the only way he could keep his thoughts in line instead of panicking in circles. 

“Totally fine. Like I said, I’m really sorry.” 

“It’s okay.” Cam climbed to his feet, Shane helping just a little. “I’m fine, really.” As far as he could tell, he really was in front of Blue Bay University, on a sunny day at the start of the fall semester. The air moved just slightly in the breeze off the ocean, birds sang in the background, and the students moved unconcernedly across the campus. If this was an illusion, it was a very good one. 

“Hey, there’s Dustin.” Shane smiled, the first unconcerned expression Cam had seen since waking up. “He’s got Hunter and Blake with him.” 

Cam turned to look in the direction Shane was pointing. Sure enough, Dustin was jogging towards them, a sheepish expression on his face, trailed by the other two. All three of them were wearing motocross gear. Cam frowned, his relief at seeing the three of them unharmed eclipsed by a puzzling question. When had they found time to change into motocross gear? _What the hell is going on here?_

“Sorry, dude,” Dustin called. “We ran late at the track. It was totally sick today, man.” He ruffled his curly hair with one muddy hand. “Hey,” and he directed his attention to Cam. “You must be the mysterious Cam Tori keeps talking about. This’s Hunter, and that’s Blake, and I’m Dustin.” He grinned. 

“Oh, man, I’m sorry! I’m Shane,” Shane said abashedly. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Cam.” 

Cam stared, one corner of his mind registering for the first time that not only was his morpher missing, so was everyone else’s. “I think…” he swallowed. “I think I need to sit down.” 

Radiating chagrin and concern, Shane immediately put an arm over Cam’s shoulders and steered him to a bench. Cam sank down on it, propping his head in his hands. “Are you sure you’re okay? Should we take you to the hospital or something?” 

“Dude, what’s going on?” Dustin crouched in front of Cam. “What did you do this time, dude?” He sounded slightly muffled, as if he’d turned around. He was probably facing Shane, Cam thought distantly. 

“I’m fine,” he managed past the realization that had finally beaten its way to the forefront of his mind. “I just… I’m fine.” But he wasn’t. 

Somehow, Lothor’s monster had transported him to another dimension entirely, and without his morpher, he had no way of getting back. 

* * *

“Cam? What happened?” Tori pushed through the knot of boys surrounding Cam. “Come on you guys, get back. Let him have some air.” She took Shane’s place. “Drink this. You’ll feel better.” 

“I sincerely doubt orange juice is going to make me feel better,” Cam muttered under his breath, but he took it anyway. 

“Drink it, Cam. You look terrible.” 

“I feel terrible.” He hadn’t meant to say it out loud. 

“Do you want to do this later, dude?” Shane interrupted. 

“What?” 

“Yeah, man, the track can totally wait,” Dustin pushed forward, and the gathering degenerated into the four boys loudly assuring Cam that if he didn’t feel well, it was all right, with Tori trying to out-shout them all into shutting up. 

“I’m fine!” Cam finally yelled, not realizing until afterwards that he had probably just committed himself to an afternoon watching Dustin and the Thunder Rangers tearing in circles around a dirt track. It wasn’t particularly conducive to finding a way home. Then again, if he could find information, he might be able to determine whether this was an illusion, another dimension, even if it was some sort of dream. 

Dead silence followed his shout, and the other five simply stared. Cam tried to smile, but he wasn’t sure how well it turned out. “Really. I’m sorry I frightened you. Shall we go?” He stood up, more or less steadily. 

“Right.” Tori smiled uncertainly. “Um, do you guys wanna take my van?” 

“We’ve got our own wheels.” Hunter glanced at Blake and motioned towards the curb. 

Blake paused. “Dustin? You riding with us?” 

“Nah, dude, I’ll catch a ride with Tori.” Dustin clapped Blake on the shoulder lightly. “See you in a few, man.” 

“Right.” Blake smiled and jogged after his brother. 

“The van’s over here.” Tori led the rest of them towards what Cam vaguely remembered as the student parking lot from the one semester he’d taken a course at BBU. He shook off the last residual dizziness and trotted after Tori. 

* * *

Cam found himself relegated to the back seat of the van during the short ride to the track, alongside Dustin. The mirror of the Yellow Ranger was just as hyperactive as his counterpart, babbling on a variety of subjects. Shane participated enthusiastically from the front seat, turning around to voice his opinions until Tori snapped at him to face forward and keep his seat belt fastened properly. From the look Shane and Dustin exchanged, it was an oft-repeated incident. 

“Hey, Dustin,” Cam said into the resulting silence. 

“Yeah?” 

“What do you know about the… um… the Power Rangers?” Cam asked, trying to sound off-handed. 

“Dude, you know comic books?” Dustin’s smile got brighter, something Cam wouldn’t have believed possible. “Tori, you didn’t tell me he liked comic books. That’s like, totally shibby. You know the ones this year? Ninja Storm. They’re way cool. There’s like this totally secret ninja academy that got blown up by evil space ninjas, and –“ 

“This year’s comics?” Cam interrupted. 

“Yeah, it changes every year. Sometimes they do a cartoon, too. I think it like started in Japan or something. You didn’t know that?” 

“Uh, sort of,” Cam muttered. So the Rangers were just fiction? That meant, then, that this was not a dimension in which he could expect any Ranger-type help in getting home. It was a serious blow. 

* * *

Dustin’s freestyle was much better than Cam remembered, although he wasn’t technically racing. Or he was, but this level of freestyle motocross was definitely not something he’d actually seen Dustin do before. He winced every time Dustin twisted off the bike entirely or did something else apparently defying the laws of physics. He was more convinced that Dustin was going to end up in pieces than he had been during any of the fights against Lothor’s monsters. It made him edgy, even if this wasn’t really Dustin. 

“Hey, relax, man,” Hunter said quietly. 

Cam nearly jumped out of his skin. “W-what?” He hadn’t even realized the other boy was standing that close, and that unnerved him more than Dustin’s stunts. 

“Dustin does this sort of stuff all the time.” Hunter waved vaguely at the yellow-clad blur racing away from them. “He’s a natural.” 

“I’ve never seen him do _that_ before,” Cam muttered under his breath, not looking at Hunter. 

“I thought Tori said you hadn’t met Dustin and the others yet.” Hunter had heard him anyway. Damn. 

“I, uh, haven’t. I –“ Cam was saved from his accidental slip by Dustin’s rather vocal arrival. 

“Did you guys see that? I like totally landed it that time!” 

Hunter threw a glance at Cam before joining Tori and Shane in congratulating Dustin. 

“What’d you think?” 

Cam looked up to find Dustin staring intently at him, wide brown eyes fixed on him in appeal. “Uh, it was great,” he said finally. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” 

Dustin grinned. “You should see Hunter and Blake, man.” 

Cam paused. His Hunter and Blake simply raced. He distinctly remembered several conversations involving the words ‘factory bike’. “They do, uh, freestyle?” 

Dustin laughed. “No way, man. Neither of them could pull that off on a good day.” 

“Hey!” Hunter growled, swinging an uncoordinated fist in Dustin’s general direction. Cam had to look twice before he realized that this was just Hunter’s version of clowning around. Dustin ducked and came up on Hunter’s other side, still smiling. 

“These guys,” and he put one arm around Hunter and snagged Blake away from Tori with the other. “These guys are pure motocross.” 

“Leggo, Dustin,” Blake said absently, still focused on Tori. 

“You’ve got a demo, dude.” Dustin pointed at the track. “Like, now? Isn’t Roger Hanna watching or something?” 

“Dustin.” Tori arched an eyebrow. “Stop teasing.” 

“Fine, fine. I’ll stop.” Dustin backed away, both hands in the air. “But Tor, he really does have a demo –“ 

“I _know_ , Dustin.” Blake started toward the track, reaching towards Hunter as he walked past. “Let’s go, bro.” 

Hunter threw a measuring glance at Cam, and Cam swallowed. He hadn’t been on the receiving end of one of Hunter’s patented Looks for some time now; he’d forgotten what it felt like. “Sure thing.” Hunter smiled at his brother, the expression sliding on and off his features without leaving any impression. 

As soon as they were out of hearing range, Cam approached Tori. “Can you, uh, give me a ride back? I’ve got a project I need to work on.” 

“Cam, you said yesterday you’d be free today.” Tori did the puppy-eyes look better than Dustin, but he’d wasted enough of the day already. It was time to start looking for a way home, and somehow he didn’t think the mirrors of the Rangers were going to be much help. He’d already gotten the most important piece of information from Dustin; namely that he was on his own. 

“I, uh, forgot about this one.” He resisted the urge to shuffle his feet under the weight of Tori’s pleading gaze. 

“What’s it on?” Somehow, Tori managed to look intimidating even without the lethal grace she’d acquired as a ninja. 

“Neutrinos.” There, at least, he was on solid ground. 

“You’re not taking a physics class this semester, are you?” 

“It’s sort of an independent study.” Classes. He had classes. _Just great. That’s all I need._

Tori sighed. “Cam, look, if you don’t want to do this, just say so.” 

“No, it’s great. It really is. But I need to get this project started as soon as I can.” His vision blurred slightly and he shook his head to clear it. 

Tori eyed him dubiously. “You’re still wonky from before, aren’t you? All right, I’ll take you back this time. But next time –“ 

He held out his hands defensively. “I promise. Next time.” 

“Hey! Dustin! Shane!” At the sound of Tori’s voice, both boys looked up from whatever it was they were doing, identical guilty expressions on their faces. 

“I don’t even want to know.” Tori said as they turned around, Dustin’s hands behind his back. “Cam’s not feeling well. I’m gonna take him back.” 

“Oh.” Dustin’s face cleared. “Uh, I’m sorry, man. See you around.” 

“Yeah,” Shane agreed. “Feel better.” 

It wasn’t until Cam was climbing out of the van that he realized he had no idea where exactly his room was. He could only assume Tori was dropping him off in front of the correct building, but it turned out to be a moot point as he couldn’t find anything resembling a key in his pockets. “Uh, Tori?” 

“Yeah?” She’d been quiet on the way back, and she looked up now with an expression of vague surprise. 

“I think I forgot my room key.” 

“Again? Cam…” Tori shook her head, obviously amused. “You’re an absent-minded professor already.” 

“Ha, ha.” 

“I suppose you want me to call security for you.” She finished dialing before the words were out of her mouth. 

“Thanks.” 

“Don’t mention it,” she said absently, and proceeded to inform security that Cameron Watanabe had managed to lock himself out of his room. Yes, again. “I think you have the record this year. And last year.” 

“I know that.” He climbed out of the van, returning the wave the security guard sent him. “Thanks,” he repeated. 

“Sure. Look, we’re still on for the study session Monday, right?” 

“Uh, yes. Monday. I’ll see you then.” Study session? Tori had never been interested in Zord technology, and that was really the basis for his technical knowledge. She couldn’t mean martial arts, could she? Cam watched the van drive off with a vague feeling of dread. He had to get home as soon as possible. 

* * *

His room was as neat as he would have expected; textbooks lay stacked on a bookshelf, and a computer system that would have seemed impressive to someone who hadn’t spent the majority of his life in Ninja Ops covered most of one wall. In plain sight next to the monitor lay a keychain with a sticky-note reading “Do Not Forget”. Cam rolled his eyes. Next to the keychain lay a weekly planner. 

Curious, he picked it up and leafed through it. In his own meticulously neat handwriting, nearly every particular of his daily life appeared to be written. Classes, extracurricular activities, his study sessions with Tori… everything appeared to be laid out ahead of time. 

“No plan ever survives the first engagement of battle,” Cam told the book. It was unresponsive. His other self didn’t seem to have had to learn that lesson. He replaced the book and looked around. 

There was a surprising amount of open space in the middle of the floor. If he moved the chair near the desk into the closet, he’d have just enough space to do a simple training kata. Opening the closet door showed him just enough floor space to accommodate the chair. “So you do train,” he murmured. 

He shut the door, leaning against it with his eyes closed. Without the distraction provided by the others, the turmoil of his thoughts was almost overwhelming. _Stop it_ , he thought firmly. It didn’t help. _Calm. I have to be calm._ Cam sank to the floor and concentrated on a simple meditative trance. 

It didn’t work quite properly. He should have been able to enter a true trance state, surrounded by low-energy manifestations of the ninja elements, but all he was able to manage was the novice-level exercise of clearing his mind completely in preparation. He supposed it was possible that his other self hadn’t really trained properly, which might account for his inability to perform the exercise, but meditation was more a tool of the mind than the body. Cam shook his head slightly, and concentrated on ordering his thoughts instead. 

_I’m trapped in another dimension. One without my morpher, where Power Rangers exist only in fiction._

So far, so good. Or not good, as the case was. 

_Is this real?_

Not a productive line of thought. 

_I have to treat this like it is real. Even if it turns out to be some sort of dreamstate, it won’t do any harm._

That was better. He could feel himself getting calmer. 

_I have to find a way to detect the portal that brought me here._

He’d done a study of the various portals that, as ninjas-in-training and as Rangers, they had encountered. He knew how they worked, for the most part, and how to scan for them. Portals gave off radiation of very specific types, both energetic and material in nature. The most unique emission of a portal was undoubtedly beryllium-7 particles, but those neutrinos were notoriously difficult to scan for. Although he had had them in mind when he had told Tori he had a “project” to work on, Cam shook his head. Portals also emitted Cherenkov light; for that, a detector would be complex. Maybe too complex. 

It was also possible to search for ninja elements; the portal outside the Academy could be easily felt by a ninja, no matter how inept. Using it, of course, was another matter. That energy was undoubtedly the most unique facet to any portal opening to this world. Even though he wasn’t aligned with any specific element, he was still perfectly capable of detecting the energy, even without a morpher. Cam nodded once. _See? No reason to panic._

Cam stood and grabbed his mirror’s keys off the desk before heading to the front of the campus to begin his search. After all, there was no reason for his other self to be locked out when Cam managed to make his way back to his own world and – presumably – return his mirror to this one. 

* * *

The sun was just beginning to set as Cam stepped outside. Soft golden light washed over the grounds, vying against the harsher glow of the streetlights. Cam jogged to the front of the campus, searching for the spot he remembered seeing just as he had passed through the portal. It wasn’t difficult to find; the college itself was rather small, and there wasn’t a lot of space to choose from. Cam stood where he thought he had been standing before, and stretched out his senses to find the ninja elements. 

Nothing happened. 

Cam shook his head slightly. He’d felt something similar during meditation; a subtle lack of depth to his perception of the surrounding world, as if his senses had been somehow dulled. Calling up his energy, he tried again. And again. And again. 

It was past midnight when Cam walked slowly and dispiritedly back to his room, trying to figure out what was wrong. He’d spent most of his life training in one capacity or another, and his senses were as good or better than most graduates of the Academy. If there had been an absence of ninja elements, he should have been able to feel that as a void. Instead there had been… nothing. 

“Almost like… not being able to see them at all,” he muttered. The door swung open on his room and he kicked it shut absentmindedly. The implication of what he’d said struck him, and he stopped cold. “Not… being able.” He closed his eyes, reaching out again. The difference was so obvious, so immediate, that it was almost ludicrous not to have noticed it before. “Why didn’t I think of that?” Twice now, he had failed to see the obvious. He should have known as soon as he had failed to trance properly. His senses had indeed been dulled, his ability to sense ninja elements and energies completely stripped. 

It was a reasonable supposition that his other ninja abilities had been stripped as well. Cam considered waiting to test that little theory, but it didn’t make sense to let any more time pass. 

He really would rather have been proven wrong instead of ending up back in his room, filthy, bruised, and with soaking wet feet over an hour later. At least nobody had seen him fail this time. 

* * *

“Cam? You all right?” Tori’s voice filtered through the thin door, disturbing his concentration. “Cam?” She knocked again. 

Cam rubbed his eyes. He’d spent the better part of the weekend determining the capabilities of the computer his mirror had set up and searching for a way to create a portal detector. The thought had occurred to him that his teammates must be searching for him as well – _if they’re not all dead_ – but it was not an assumption he was prepared to make. If he were helping from this end, it would be that much easier for them. It had also occurred to him that if the Rangers were still alive – _I have no reason to doubt that_ – then his mirror was in their world. _He won’t be able to handle the Samurai powers. It’s got to be worse on him than it is on me, but at least the others will be able to tell him the truth._

In the meantime, he had hit dead end after dead end. The technology to which he had grown accustomed simply did not seem to exist here. There was no way he could build a mobile detector for either Cherenkov light or beryllium-7 particles, not with the materials he apparently had on hand. 

_Maybe Tori could help me find some of the components I need._

He might be able to build a detector purely from memory. He thought he remembered some of the schematics. _Even if it is dependent on ninja elements for a power source. I may not be able to sense them, but they should still be here._

“Cam!” Tori pounded on the door again. 

She wasn’t going to go away if he ignored her. He knew Tori. Cam got resignedly to his feet and padded over to the door. “What?” 

Tori paused in mid-knock, hand held high. “You _are_ here.” She lowered her hand and looked him up and down. “Are you sick or something?” 

Cam followed her eyes. He was wearing the same clothes he’d been wearing since he’d been dragged through the portal. “Uh, not exactly.” 

“Then you forgot our study session.” She looked at him pointedly, crossing her arms. 

“Today’s Monday?” He’d completely lost track of time. 

“You forgot what day it was? Are you sure you’re not sick?” Before he could stop her, she was pressing her suddenly bared forearm to his head. “You don’t feel warm.” She wrinkled her nose. “Have you even stepped outside your room all weekend? No, don’t answer that.” She pushed past him and opened the closet door. “Go shower. Dress. I’ll be waiting. Right here.” She pressed the “standby” button on his computer, ignoring his startled yelp. 

He did feel better after showering and putting on clean clothes, even if it was at the behest of a Tori who was far bossier and pushier than he was used to. Not that his Tori wasn’t bossy; she just didn’t try to order him around. That was what she had Shane and Dustin for. 

“Come on.” She hopped off his bed – which was now made – and tugged at his arm. “Let’s go. And don’t forget your keys.” 

He swiped them off the desk. “I wasn’t going to,” he replied, even though he hadn’t thought of them at all. 

She held the door open for him, as if she thought he might dive back into the room as soon as her back was turned and refuse to let her in again. As he actually had considered that particular course of action, he couldn’t really blame her. “Your study session?” he asked, following her down the hall. 

“Naaah. Compsci was easy this week. It’s next week I’m really going to need your help.” She smiled. 

Cam managed to stop himself from blurting out the word “You? Studying computers?” by only the thinnest of margins. Tori had never shown even the slightest interest in anything with a monitor, except for occasional email checks. “What are you covering next week?” he asked instead. 

“Databases. I know this is really really basic stuff, Cam, but I need it for my major. Although I really don’t see what marine biology and computers have in common anyway.” 

“Collect information, analyze results, tabulate data.” The response was almost automatic. Tori studying biology was almost weirder than Tori studying computer science. 

“Oh. I never thought of that.” She smiled a bit abashedly and tucked strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Where are we going, then?” 

“Didn’t you say you used to practice martial arts?” 

“I still do.” If a training session was all she wanted, it probably wasn’t a bad idea. 

“I thought you said you quit.” She frowned. 

“Well, formal training, you know, but…” He was almost starting to rethink not telling the mirrors of the Rangers what was going on, or at least telling Tori. He’d thought it would be less disruptive if he simply pretended to be this world’s Cam, but it was turning out to be more difficult than he’d anticipated. 

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it,” Tori assured him, misinterpreting his hesitation. Grateful, he simply smiled. 

“Thanks. So where, exactly, are we going?” 

“Oh. The dojo where Shane and Dustin and I practice. There are classes every night, but I don’t go to all of them. Did I tell you that?” 

He shook his head. 

“I thought I did. The sensei’s really cool. Kind of reminds me of you.” 

“Uh, thanks,” he repeated, not quite sure what else to say. “Are Shane and Dustin going to be there?” 

“Well…” Tori opened the car door for him. Apparently she still suspected him of planning to bolt. He climbed into the van obediently, fastening his seatbelt. Once Tori had gotten in, she continued speaking as if there had been no interruption. “It’s Monday, so I’m not really sure. I usually don’t go on Monday. But I don’t think Dustin or Shane have to work tonight, and I know Dustin doesn’t have a gig, so maybe.” 

Cam couldn’t help it. “Gig?” 

“Yeah, for his band. Or sort of his band. He plays sax for them sometimes. I thought I told you that, too.” 

He was going to get tired of hearing those words, and she was going to start getting suspicious. “Tori, there’s something –“ 

“Hang on!” He hadn’t even been paying attention to the road. Now, he suddenly couldn’t see it as the van swung around onto a hairpin curve. “Sorry. It’s a little rough.” 

“The … dojo is up here?” He’d almost said “Academy”; Tori was taking the road out of town that led past the clearing holding the portal. 

“It’s a little out of the way, but like I said, the sensei is really cool. You’ll like him. Maybe you can start practicing again or something.” 

Cam nodded. The urge to tell Tori the truth had passed. 

* * *

“There it is.” Tori pointed, pulling the van into a tiny gravel parking lot. “Kinda in the middle of nowhere. But it’s worth it!” 

“So you keep telling me.” Cam unfastened his seat belt and climbed out. The building was indeed fairly isolated, and very close to where the portal to the Academy had been in his world. The coincidence was almost uncanny, almost enough to make him believe that there were indeed Rangers in this place. Events had obviously occurred differently, but perhaps there was indeed hope that he could count on this dimension’s Rangers for help. 

Even taking his inability to sense the elements into consideration – Cam stilled suddenly as his train of thought took a new turn. What if it had been the Rangers of this world that had shut off his senses? It was certainly possible. But why? Did they see him as a threat? Or were they under the control of something else? 

Ranger energies weren’t necessarily always the power of, for lack of a better term, good. Hunter and Blake hadn’t been fighting for the benefit humanity by any stretch of the imagination the second time they’d shown up. Or the first. They’d been manipulated. If the Rangers here had been manipulated in the same way, it could turn out very badly for this world. 

“But how would they know about me?” he whispered. “That I had gotten here?” 

Even his scanners back at Ninja Ops weren’t _that_ good. Then perhaps they had been the ones to bring him here? But again, that begged the question of _why_. His mirror hadn’t been doing anything involved with Rangers at all. He’d _seen_ the planner, he’d seen the computer. It was all so… so mundane. 

Perhaps they’d brought him here to help, and then had been discovered. Those who were controlled could have stripped his senses if they hadn’t known how to send him back. A plausible theory. It would account for both his presence and his inability to sense the ninja elements. But then what was Tori doing bringing him up here? 

The only answer was that she had been manipulated and was bringing him here – on the orders of her superiors – to kill him. Or subvert him. Whichever proved the most efficient. She would lead him to the portal, and through it. 

Cam pushed the door of the van shut, nodding once. She would expect him to be surprised. It wasn’t a trap if he knew it was a trap, right? He’d be ready, he knew what was coming. Even without his ninja powers or his Ranger powers, he was ready and fully capable of defending himself. 

_Gather as much information as possible and escape. Pretend to subversion if necessary. You can do this, Cam._

Tori came around the van, smiling. She was a much better actor than his Tori; he could sense no hint of deception. She frowned. “You’re kind of pale, Cam. Are you sure you’re all right?” 

He tried to smile. “I’m fine.” Walking into the enemy’s stronghold was no big deal. 

“Well, come on then.” She started towards the dojo. 

Not the portal. They weren’t going to the portal. Either the base was here, or they had determined it would be too big a risk to allow him into the base. The plan still hadn’t changed. Cam wished he could forget what he’d half-jokingly told the daily planner two days before. 

_Even the best-laid plans never survive the first engagement with the enemy._

It looked like he would be able to test that adage again. Cam swallowed and walked after Tori. The dojo itself was a small building, large windows. Double-paned glass. Possibly not glass; plexiglass perhaps. The door faced the road; it was built on an artificially created plane. The sides of the mountain rose steeply behind the dojo and directly past the gravel of the parking lot was a sheer drop. Difficult to escape. He thought he was agile enough to do it. 

Tori removed her shoes at the door, bending over to pick them up with one hand, holding the door for Cam with the other. He slipped his own sneakers off and followed her inside down a short hallway and into a practice room covered in tatami mats that must have taken up the vast majority of the interior of the small building. 

There were no other shoes outside the door to the practice room, but Tori placed hers on the floor and motioned Cam to do the same. He did so, keeping his back to the wall and without averting his gaze. A door on the opposite side of the room opened just as Cam straightened up, and he turned automatically to face the enemy. Tori grinned at the figure emerging from the door. Her superior. It had to be. Her greeting all but confirmed it. “Good evening, Sensei Watanabe!” 

Cam froze. The man across the room looked up, features blanking in what couldn’t possibly have been surprise and then settling into distaste mixed with deep disappointment and anger. 

“Cameron.” Despite the icy tone of the word, there was no way he could fail to recognize the voice. 

“D-dad?” 

* * *

“D-dad?” All Cam registered for a moment was utter disbelief that his father – _my father!_ – had been somehow manipulated into working for the enemy. His own father was responsible for – 

“Are you even listening to me, Cameron?” His father’s voice broke through his thoughts, edged now with disdain, and he realized he hadn’t heard a word his father had said. 

“I –“ he started, unable to say anything else. 

“I asked you why you were here.” His father stood almost at rigid attention, every line of his body radiating indignation. 

“You – you know him?” Tori asked in a small voice. Cam wasn’t sure to whom she was speaking, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to answer. 

“This …child… is my son,” his father replied after a moment. 

“I didn’t know,” Tori said quietly. “I’m sorry.” She was going to ask him why he hadn’t said anything. Cam wasn’t looking forward to it. 

“I –“ he started again. 

“Cameron.” 

“Yes, sir?” He rarely called his father ‘sir’, but somehow the reflex kicked in now. 

“I don’t know what you’re thinking, but you have made it clear to me that everything I have taught you means nothing. Unless you are here to rectify that error, I have nothing further to say to you.” 

“You’re not going to kill me?” Those weren’t the words that he had intended to say. They weren’t even close. But the collapse of the theory that had seemed so logical before he had walked through the door seemed to have stolen his tongue. 

“What?” Both Tori and his father spoke simultaneously, in nearly identical tones of shock threaded with surprise. 

“Nothing. It’s nothing. It – I have to go.” He backed out of the room, turning and running down the short hallway and out the door. The gravel crunched under his sock-clad feet, painful and eerily reminiscent of the fight with the unnamed monster so few days before. 

_I want to go home. I can’t do this. I can’t… It’s not my place to interfere in my mirror’s life. I can’t make decisions like this for him. It’s … it’s_ wrong _, that’s what it is._ Cam leaned against the van, trying to catch his breath, absently shifting his feet. _But… why did he … Dad was always so…_ His father hadn’t exactly been supportive of Cam’s desire to be his own person, not at first. Cam had had to prove that he was indeed a capable adult before his father had finally acknowledged that he wasn’t some kid to be protected in memory of his mother. But after Cam had returned with the amulet, his father had finally allowed him to choose his own path. _I guess that didn’t really happen here. Aside from the obvious lack of an amulet, that is._ Another thought came unbidden. _I wonder how Mom died._

“Cam.” Tori spoke just as she dropped his shoes in front of him. Startled out of his thoughts for the second time in a matter of minutes, he reflexively jumped backwards, banging his shoulder painfully against the side of the van. 

“You should have told me this was your father’s dojo,” Tori said accusingly. Apparently she was going to overlook the comment regarding his father’s lack of murderous intent. That, at least, was lucky. 

_I knew she was going to say something, though._ He pulled on the shoes and climbed into the van. “It, um, didn’t occur to me until we walked in the door,” he said with perfect truth. “I haven’t spoken to my father in a while.” That seemed to be true also. 

“Cam.” Tori gave him a flat look. “You should have told me.” 

“I’m sorry. I really didn’t know. I guess- I thought someone else had taken it over. I thought you knew.” Tori flushed. That was surprising; apparently she _had_ known. It might be enough to deflect any suspicions she could have about him. “Tori, what did he tell you about me?” She had indeed done it on purpose, just not for the reasons he thought she had. _And that means there really are no Rangers._ The thought was accompanied by an almost crushing disappointment. Even Rangers fighting for the side of evil were Rangers, and he needed all the help he could get. 

“Well…” She put the van into gear and pulled out of the lot. “I really shouldn’t –“ 

“Tell me, Tori.” It was the same tone of voice he used on the Blue Wind Ranger, and that at least hadn’t changed. She responded just like his Tori would have. 

“He… We asked him if he had any kids. He said that he used to have a son, but that his son didn’t care for tradition. That’s all.” 

Cam glanced sideways. Tori was looking straight forward, eyes all but glued to the road ahead of her. “And?” 

“And…” she squirmed slightly. “I thought… it might be you, because of the last name, you know? And that maybe you… should talk.” 

Cam sighed. “I’m not angry, Tori, but my – my father might be. Just… don’t do it again, all right? It’s my problem, not yours.” She didn’t reply, but Cam thought she looked relieved. “Just bring me back to my room, all right?” he asked after a few moments. 

“Sure,” she replied. “And Cam… I’m sorry.” 

“Just don’t do it again,” Cam repeated. It seemed like every passing second gave him more reasons to find a way home. 

* * *

Not interfering with his mirror’s life meant that Cam had to figure out how to live it. It was easier than it might have been; his mirror didn’t seem to have made many friends outside of Tori, and none of them appeared to be close. More difficult were the classes; his mirror had apparently been studying computer science quite seriously, specializing in practical applications. Cam, unfortunately, had very little experience in anything outside of Zord technology, which wasn’t particularly useful. 

Tori hadn’t spoken to him about his father since she’d taken him to the dojo, and he hadn’t brought the subject up either. It was too disconcerting to think that some version of himself could become estranged from his father. Whatever else Cam’s father was, he had always intended the best for Cam. Besides, he had enough to think about without adding family problems to the list. 

Between figuring out his mirror’s coursework and keeping Tori convinced that nothing had changed, Cam found very little time to work on constructing a portal detector. It didn’t help that he had to remember the design specifications and figure out the programming before actual construction could begin; his memory of most of the technology in Ninja Ops was shakier than he had thought. 

The beginning of the fourth week following the incident found him severely sleep-deprived and subsequently irritable. Since the incident with his father, he hadn’t seen any of this world’s versions of his friends except for Tori, and even then only for a few minutes at a time. If he’d had the energy to think about it, he would have suspected her of avoiding him on purpose. 

Simply to keep his thoughts straight, he had begun to keep track of his daily activities. He couldn’t call his efforts a diary, or even a journal. It was simply a record of his progress in creating a portable Cherenkov detector, and in trying to clear his senses of whatever was blocking them. Neither effort was meeting with much success. 

Cam rubbed his eyes, trying in vain to get the sandpaper feel to give up and go away. It hadn’t worked the last six times he’d tried and he had no good reason to expect it to work now. His schoolwork, at least, was complete; he’d done a passing job, but nothing like what he’d seen of his mirror’s work. In order to duplicate that, he would have had to spend nearly every waking minute writing code. 

“Probably what _he_ did,” Cam muttered, stretching his fingers. The diagram he was working on was of the innermost circuit of the detector. The model was his own design, directly derived from the Zord sensor technology but powered by a less exotic energy source than the user’s personal ninja energies. With his senses as blind as they were, he couldn’t depend on himself as a stable energy source. The adaptation of the energy source and the reason behind it just added up to one more dimension of stress. “All right, the overlay feeds into the circuit here, and reverses polarity at the switch…” 

Only his training at his father’s Academy had allowed him to recreate as much of the detector as he had; simple exercises to focus the mind and enhance memory without relying on the elements were still well within his capabilities. And yet, he still could not remember how the most essential component was constructed. 

“All right,” he repeated. Used to a running dialogue with CyberCam or his father or any one of the other five Rangers, he had taken to talking to himself just for a sense of normalcy. Even if he never got an answer back. “I have a power source.” He’d worry about how to get his hands on high-grade plutonium later; it was the only conventional material with enough energy to power the detector. “I know what I need to build. I just need the hardware to run the diagnostic subroutine. That’s all.” 

The detector itself was simple enough; the hardest part to obtain of the hardware – aside from the power source – would be the photomultiplier tubes, which actually registered the light; for the portal to trigger the detector, its emissions had to travel through the water tank with enough energy to generate Cherenkov light and reach the PMTs lining the tank itself. The really difficult part was the programming necessary to analyze the light and filter out the background noise. All the research he’d done so far seemed to indicate that no one in this world had figured out a way to do that other than by isolating the detector and shielding it from outside radiation as much as possible. 

_And since I need a radioactive energy source, that makes my life much more difficult._ The high energy demand was needed partially to run the intensely complex computing needed to compensate for both the energy source and any other background interference. Of the two, the radiation from the plutonium would be easier to filter out, since he knew precisely what effects it would have on the detector. _It’s everything else making it hard. I can’t believe I have to build a passive detector._

And that was half the problem; the design he was attempting to recreate was based on the device he had had to leave at the site of the portal into the past he had used to acquire the samurai amulet in the first place. He hadn’t thought it was an efficient use of energy to actively and constantly scan the area in case Lothor attempted to open the portal – never mind that the scroll he’d used was safe; Lothor always found ways around seemingly impossible restrictions. Instead, he’d set up a passive scanner and simply run it from a constant feed of energy from Ninja Ops. Since it was passive instead of active – waiting in one place for the portal’s emissions to come into contact with it as opposed to sending out a wave of energy and reading the results as they were repelled by various objects and fields – it was comparatively a much lower power drain on Ninja Ops’ resources. 

Cam shook his head and rubbed his eyes again. “Focus, Cam, focus.” Drifting off into the origins of the machine he was trying to duplicate didn’t help him remember how he had constructed it in the first place. He evened out his breathing and cleared his thoughts in preparation for the mnemonic trigger. 

* * *

“Cameron?” 

“Cam, can you hear me?” 

Cam tried to blink and found that his eyes were already closed. He felt disassociated from his body, as if his thoughts weren’t quite anchored. It took more effort than it should have to open them, and the intensity of the light nearly blinded him when he finally succeeded. 

“Cam!” That was Tori’s voice, sounding as if it was coming from very far away. He squeezed his eyes shut, and brought up a hand to block out the light when he opened them again. It didn’t help much. 

“Tori?” 

“Yes. Oh, thank God you’re all right.” She sounded closer now, and from what he could make out, she was wearing blue. Hope sparked. 

“Cameron.” That was his father’s voice. Was it possible that he had been pulled back to his own world? “Cameron, how do you feel?” 

“I –“ he cleared his throat and blinked a few times. The light was still blinding, but if this was his world, then he was more worried about the other Rangers. “How are –“ He stopped before asking if Hunter and Blake had been rescued. There were several reasons that could account for waking up in a strange place with Tori and his father worriedly standing over him, even if he couldn’t quite think straight enough to know what they were. He’d already made false assumptions once. “What happened?” he asked instead. 

“That’s not important. Yet, anyway.” Tori again. “How do you feel, Cam?” 

“I… can’t see very well.” 

“That’s all right. The doctor said it would take a little while for your eyes to readjust.” 

That didn’t tell him anything. “How did I get here?” 

“You don’t remember?” 

The vague feeling of disorientation was rapidly diminishing, and his mind was beginning to clear enough to register annoyance that no one was giving him a straight answer about anything. “No,” he said shortly, and sat up. By narrowing his eyes to filter out the glare, he could make out a hospital room. Tori and his father were both hovering next to the bed, but no one else was in the room. “Are you going to tell me?” 

“Cameron.” His father pressed him back down. “Just get some rest. We’ll talk in the morning.” 

Cam had forgotten just how physically strong his father was; he was completely unable to offer resistance. “I want to know,” he said instead, hearing the petulant note to his voice and unable to stop it. “What am I doing here?” 

Tori and his father exchanged looks. “I found you in your room,” she said cautiously. “You wouldn’t wake up, and I panicked.” He was still in his mirror’s world, then. Hope crashed yet again, and he closed his eyes against the disappointment. 

Cam’s father sat down on the edge of the bed and stroked Cam’s forehead gently. The sensation reminded Cam vividly of when he had been sick as a child, and his father had stayed with him until he fell asleep. “Cameron, you didn’t tell me you were here a month ago,” he said. 

That hadn’t been noted in any of the documents that had been in his mirror’s room. He didn’t remember seeing it in the daily planner, either, and he had gone over it thoroughly. “I –“ 

“That was right before I took you to see Dustin ride, remember?” Tori dragged a chair to the side of the bed and sat down. 

“I remember Dustin’s riding,” Cam retorted. “I thought he was trying to break his neck.” Underneath the attempt at levity, though, he was trying to repress an entirely new type of fear; as a samurai, his body had been his tool. Now, suddenly, it seemed to have given way, eroding the only constant he had left. “What’s wrong with me now?” He asked quickly, blurting the words out before he could take them back or swallow them unsaid. 

“You were diagnosed with a very mild form of anemia, Cameron. Dr. Chan says that you’ve been working far too hard over the last month, and not taking care of yourself properly. He also said that it looked like you haven’t been following his instructions.” His father shifted position, turning towards him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

At that moment, Cam would have cheerfully strangled his mirror if he’d been able to get his hands on him. Why, when the other boy had been so meticulous in documenting every aspect of his life, had he left this out? It wasn’t as if it were something to be ashamed of. From what his father was saying, it was just a minor problem. 

“I –“ he started. “We… haven’t spoken… and I…” Oh, this was not good. Not good at all. 

“Cameron, I know we haven’t always seen eye to eye.” Cam could hear Tori edging towards the door, presumably to give him and his father privacy. Just great. “The past year has been difficult on both of us, but I wanted to tell you that I’m proud of what you’ve accomplished. As a father should be.” 

This was moving towards the surreal. His father had looked ready to disown him a few weeks before, and now he was apologizing? Cam didn’t know whether to laugh or scream. 

His father hadn’t finished, though. “But it’s clear to me that you’re not all right, Cameron.” A pause. Cam tried to see his father’s face, but he couldn’t make anything out. “I looked through your journal.” 

Journal? His – oh no. The book he’d been using to keep tabs on his efforts. He hadn’t seen any reason to hide it, since no one else had any reason to be in his room. There was nothing in it about the Rangers or about Lothor, and he was fairly sure the parts concerning the detector had said nothing about a portal, only emissions. But the rest – he had written out very detailed descriptions of the ninja techniques he had tried and failed during the first few days after the incident, and he had also carefully documented his efforts to clear his senses and restore his abilities. _He’s going to think I’m crazy._

“You read my personal documents?” He was trying to stall, trying to think something – anything – that might salvage his mirror’s life. 

“That’s not the issue.” His father was refusing to be sidetracked, then. “You wrote about things that don’t exist; clearly there’s a problem.” His father stood up, hand resting on Cam’s forehead. “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you get the help you need.” 

The door opened. “Mr. Watanabe? Visiting hours are over. You can come back tomorrow.” It was a woman’s voice, soft and pleasant. 

“They want to keep you here overnight, just for observation. I should be able to take you home tomorrow.” He could hear his father walk across the room, closing the door behind him. 

“All right, Cam.” The nurse – it must have been a nurse – bent over him, lifting his eyelids and peering into his face. He winced away from the sudden brightness. “Your pupils are still dilated, but that should wear off by tomorrow. The doctor will talk to you in the morning, okay? Just try to get some rest.” 

With that, she had left too, turning the lights out behind her. Cam lay staring into the darkness, fighting against tears of frustration and guilt. He had ruined the carefully structured existence his mirror had built and drastically reduced his chances of getting home. All of his efforts – wasted. With his father convinced that he was crazy, there was no way he would be able to build the detector. 

* * *

“And how does that make you feel, Mr. Watanabe?” 

Cam shifted in his chair. His father hadn’t pulled him out of classes, not exactly. He had ‘strongly suggested’ that Cam was not dealing well with the stress of his self-imposed schedule, and that a break was in order. Cam was only six weeks into the semester, and it had been a simple matter to drop the classes he was taking with the promise of picking them up again the next semester. As his father had said, it would only mean graduating five months later. 

Besides, it was easier than arguing with his father, especially given that he had no basis for argument other than “Well, your real son, who is at the moment trapped with a bunch of spandex-clad superheroes, would be unhappy with me if I disrupted his life too much while he wasn’t here.” He could practically see how well _that_ would go over. 

“Mr. Watanabe?” the therapist asked gently. 

“Uh… fine?” he hazarded. He really hadn’t heard the question at all. i 

The therapist smiled. “You weren’t listening, were you?” 

“No?” He twisted his fingers around each other, wishing he had a keyboard, or a piece of equipment, or even a pencil to keep his hands busy. 

“Mr. Watanabe –“ 

“Cam,” he interrupted. “Just… call me Cam.” It wasn’t the first time he’d said that. 

Again, the therapist smiled. It was sudden, no more than a stretching of her lips that did nothing to change the expression of her eyes. “All right, _Cam_.” She recrossed her legs. “From what I see here, you’ve taken nearly enough classes to graduate. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but this was your fifth semester?” 

“Yes.” Probably. 

“And you would have graduated this December?” 

“Yes.” He hadn’t known his mirror was that close to graduation. 

“You completed your senior seminar last spring, Cam, instead of this fall. Why is that?” 

“It seemed like the thing to do at the time.” Shaky ground, shaky ground. He didn’t _know_ anything about his mirror’s life. 

“Why move so quickly?” 

“Because I can,” he snapped. 

“Well, Cameron, apparently it’s been putting strain on you for quite some time. Tell me, what do your friends think?” 

“I don’t have time for friends.” That was true as far as he’d been able to tell; his mirror hadn’t listed many people as contacts anywhere. “I need to concentrate on my schoolwork.” 

“Surely you can see that it’s not healthy, Cameron. From what you’ve written here, it seems that you’ve begun trying to escape the responsibilities you’ve set yourself.” 

Oh, the irony. “I’m not trying to escape my responsibilities.” _I’m trying to get back to them._

The therapist just looked at him for a moment. “Cameron, it says here that you were building this … this detector to locate some sort of portal. Tell me, why would you look for something like that?” 

“Let me see that.” He didn’t remember writing those words. The therapist handed him the journal, and he skimmed down the page she had indicated. In his own handwriting, dated five days after his arrival, it clearly stated that the portal emissions were composed primarily of beryllium-7 particles; when directed through a tank of clean water, they emitted Cherenkov light, which was the basis for the detector he had decided to build upon discovering his sensory blindness. 

“Well?” 

“It was… just a thought,” he said finally. “I really don’t remember writing that.” 

The therapist scribbled something onto a sheet of paper. “I see. Why _are_ you designing this detector, then?” 

“Because I can,” he repeated stubbornly. “Why not?” 

“I had someone look at your diagrams. They’re not like anything my contact has ever seen. In fact, he says it might revolutionize the study of neutrinos.” 

He’d planned on dismantling the detector and deleting the schematics before he left, in the spirit of non-interference. Now, for all he knew, there were copies floating around somewhere. “Is that so.” 

“He also said that the theory was beyond his grasp of physics. Something very few people would be capable of comprehending.” 

_Not if you just look at it from a slightly different viewpoint. The viewpoint of the monitoring of magical portals and the maintenance of giant robots for the purpose of defeating evil space ninjas, for example._ “I don’t think that’s true,” he said. 

“Mr. Watanabe.” The therapist angled herself towards him and steepled her fingers. “It’s been said that there is a very fine line between genius and insanity. Now, you’re a very bright young man with a rewarding future ahead of him. But it’s clear to me that the stress you’ve placed on yourself – to prove to your father that you are capable of it, perhaps, or to prove it to yourself – is not something which you are prepared to deal with. I want to help you, but you have to let me do it.” She leaned back, regarding him steadily. “Now. We need to talk about this ‘block’ you think you have regarding some sort of sixth sense.” 

Cam walked out of the therapist’s office with the feeling that he’d narrowly escaped having his metaphorical skin flayed off and displayed as a trophy. He’d said that no, of course he didn’t take what he’d written seriously, that it was just a sort of stress relief. 

She still had wanted to know why he hadn’t taken the medication for his anemia, why he hadn’t told his father, why, why, why. At least he’d gotten his journal back. Why she’d had it to begin with, he couldn’t fathom. Wasn’t that invasion of privacy or something? And who took something like that seriously, anyway? His father was seriously overreacting, and so was this therapist. The prospect of returning to talk to her again the following week was a remarkably depressing one. 

“Are you ready to go, Cameron?” His father stood up. He’d insisted on driving Cam to the therapist’s office and back, as if he didn’t trust Cam to go on his own. Come to think of it, he probably didn’t. 

“Yes.” He followed his father to the car in silence. The therapist wanted Cam’s father to participate in the next session. God forbid. “Why did she have access to my possessions?” he asked suddenly. 

“Because I gave it to her,” his father replied, not taking his eyes off the road. 

“You did _what_?” He stared. “How could you-“ 

“Cameron. It’s for the best.” His father actually smiled at him. Cam buried his face in his hands despairingly. Some deity had to be laughing at him. There was no other explanation. 

* * *

Upon packing his mirror’s possessions to move out of the dormitory and back into his father’s home – he had no idea where he’d lived when not on campus, and neither did his father – Cam finally found the medication he’d been instructed to take. 

It was hidden inside a locked drawer and the key was taped to the underside of the desk. His mirror really had been paranoid about it. He had not, however, left any notes as to _why_ he’d gone to such great lengths to hide it. Cam shoved into a bag with a glare. 

Much to his chagrin, Tori showed to help him move and worse, she’d bullied Hunter and Dustin into coming with her. 

Cam grabbed Tori’s wrist, dragged her inside and smiled apologetically at Dustin and Hunter before closing the door in their faces. “Tori! What are they doing here?” 

“Ouch, Cam, let go. They’re helping you move.” She twisted free and smoothed out her heather-gray shirt. “You’re all uptight.” 

“What did you tell them?” 

“I told them the truth, Cam. That you were sick and overworked and need to take the rest of the semester off. Now back off.” She pushed him backwards and opened the door. “Sorry, guys.” 

“Hey, Tor, no prob.” Dustin grinned, and looked at Cam. “Hope you’re doin’ better soon, man.” 

“I’m fine,” Cam muttered, reaching for the nearest box. “Um, thanks.” 

“Dude, don’t thank us, thank Tor. She told us you needed the help. Sorry Shane couldn’t be here, man. He’s gotta work this afternoon.” Dustin hefted a box. “So where do ya want these?” 

“Van,” Tori answered before Cam could reply. “I’ll give you guys a lift back afterwards.” 

Cam sighed and capitulated. He’d learned long ago to choose his battles, and arguing with Tori didn’t seem particularly worth it. The four of them worked quickly, with Dustin’s chatter filling Hunter’s silence. It made Cam even more homesick to see these people that were so similar to his friends and yet more different than he would have thought possible. 

Just before the final trip inside, he hung back, leaning against the van on the pretext of rearranging a few of the boxes to make more space, needing a moment to remind himself that these were not his friends. For the space of a few minutes, he’d forgotten. He’d nearly asked Dustin if the shocks on the Tsunami Cycles were holding up, because he’d been worried about them the last time he’d sent them out. 

“Hey, you okay?” 

Hunter’s quiet voice sent a shock of adrenaline racing through his system. Once again, the other boy had managed to sneak up on him without his noticing. It was a little annoying, actually. “Fine,” he said, once he’d managed to convince his body that Hunter was not an enemy. 

“I didn’t mean to scare you, you know.” 

Cam shook his head. “It’s fine,” he repeated. He walked past Hunter, making sure this time to keep his senses extended. He’d apparently fallen out of the habit while in this safe-seeming world with no magic or monsters. It wouldn’t do him any good to get home and then get himself killed because he hadn’t been paying attention. He firmly ignored the little voice that told him he was doing it because Hunter had wounded his pride, and he wasn’t about to let it happen again. 

* * *

Cam had planned on setting his computer up and finishing the last of the programming for the detector; he was so close to finishing the final circuit. Something had triggered his memory of that essential component, and he wanted to write the code while it was still fresh in his mind. 

Fate, it seemed, had other plans. Or maybe it just liked laughing at him. 

By the time everything had been unloaded from Tori’s van and dragged into what had been his mirror’s bedroom once upon a time, he found himself nearly asleep on his feet. Left to his own devices, Cam would have set up the computer anyway and finished his project. Unfortunately, his father noticed, and that was the end of any further work efforts for the evening. 

The next few days were no better. His father simply refused to leave him alone. He seemed to constantly want to know what Cam was doing, and it looked like he had made it his personal mission to make sure that Cam stayed away from the computer. And to make sure that Cam took perfect care of himself. It was eerie and uncomfortable; the mirror of his father had the same capability for concentration and dedication that the original did, and right now all of his focus was on Cam. 

Eventually, Cam snuck out of the dojo just to get some space. There was, at least, one advantage to this dimension’s version of his father – the man was most definitely not a ninja master, and it was therefore a simple matter to slip out unnoticed. Once out of sight, Cam made for the clearing that he remembered holding the portal into the Academy. 

The clearing was still there, and so was the pool. No one was around; it was as deserted as he remembered it. He knew better than to try and walk through the portal, though. It was too damned cold to get soaking wet in a failed attempt. Instead, he sat cross-legged on the shore and watched the waterfall. Memories of his friends washed over him; he thought of the day Tori had been “saved” by Blake, and had tried to help him in turn by bringing him to almost exactly the spot in which Cam was now sitting. 

He’d been harsh on her for that; after all, Blake had turned out to be evil, and Tori had led him straight to their base. It was a lapse a first-year student wouldn’t have made, but really, the Rangers hadn’t grown up the way he had. His father’s teachings weren’t part of who they were. And yet, it demonstrated the compassion that was such an integral part of Tori – an integral part of all the Wind Rangers. Tori wasn’t the only person who’d learned something that day. 

The sound of voices broke through his thoughts. Two, one male and one female. Cam was on his feet before he’d made the conscious decision to move, one foot back in a righting stance and his fists raised as he faced the direction from which the voices were coming. They were coming closer, heading almost straight for his position. They almost seemed vaguely familiar. 

“Cam?” Tori disentangled herself from Blake as soon as she caught sight of him. “What are you doing here?” Blake kept one arm around her shoulders, and with an amused glance, she let him. “Something wrong?” 

“Tori?” Cam lowered his hands hastily and stood up in an approximation of a normal position. 

“Who were you expecting?” Blake slipped his other arm around Tori, toying with the hem of her shirt. She slapped at his hand. “Be polite!” 

“Oh, hey, Cam.” Blake looked at Cam as if he hadn’t seen him, and let go of Tori. From the blush decorating Blake’s normally composed face, Cam guessed that the look was genuine. “How’re you, uh, feeling?” 

“Fine,” Cam replied. The spot mirroring the entrance to the ninja Academy was a make-out spot for teenagers? “I’m going to leave you two –“ 

“Wait, wait.” Tori whispered something to Blake, who nodded. “There’s this film festival tonight. Bruce Lee or something. We’re gonna go – wanna come?” 

Cam remembered what had happened at the last film festival clearly. A monster had shrunk Blake and Hunter and trapped them in an old popcorn container. Somehow, he didn’t think that was something that was likely to happen this time around. Despite that assessment, and despite his genuine appreciation of Tori’s efforts to include him in her circle of friends, the prospect of acting as a fifth wheel – in principle, anyway – didn’t particularly appeal to him. “It’s … not really my thing,” he said after a moment. “Besides, I don’t want to, uh…” 

“What? Oh!” Tori giggled. It was unnerving. His Tori didn’t _giggle_. 

“No, man, the rest of the gang is gonna be there. You should come.” Blake smiled, a completely open expression unlike anything he’d ever seen the Navy Thunder Ranger exhibit. There were no shadows in this boy’s eyes. That, more than anything, was what prompted Cam to nod in assent. 

“Great!” Tori broke out in a dazzling smile. “So it starts at seven. That means –“ 

“I’ll meet you at the theater around six-thirty?” Cam offered. 

“I dunno. Sure you can make it on time?” 

“Hey!” he protested without thinking. “I’m always on time! You’re the one who’s late every week.” 

Tori turned to Blake. “I was late once. Once. He’s never let me forget it.” 

“That’s because she was over an hour late,” Cam added, once again without thinking about the words. He vaguely remembered waiting impatiently, calling her cell phone, calling her room, and finally going back to his own work just as she showed up at his door, frantically apologizing. 

“Once,” Tori reiterated, rolling her eyes exaggeratedly and grinning. “We’ll see you then, Cam.” She dragged Blake back down the path by which they had come. 

“Later days,” Blake called over his shoulder. 

* * *

Dustin and Hunter didn’t look surprised to see Cam, so he figured they’d spoken to Tori and Blake. “Hey, dude!” Dustin jumped up and down, waving one arm. “Tori’n Blake are inside already. Come on!” 

“It’s not like we’re going to miss it,” Hunter said. Cam thought that might have been his amused voice, but with Hunter he was never sure. 

“Sorry I’m late,” he said in response. 

“You’re not late,” Hunter told him. “He’s just impatient.” 

Dustin grinned brightly and jogged for the door. “Let’s go, man!” 

Cam rolled his eyes slightly. He’d nearly forgotten just how exuberant Dustin really was. Hunter caught his eye, and the corner of his mouth quirked up in a definite grin. Cam smiled back, just slightly. 

Once they’d gotten inside, though, he could see just why Dustin had been so impatient. The theater was packed. Tori and Blake had saved seats for them, but from the amount of dirty looks the pair had garnered in the few short minutes it took them to walk inside, it had not been an easy task. 

“All this for Bruce Lee?” Cam muttered. 

“What?” Somehow, Dustin had acquired popcorn between the door and the interior of the theater. He offered it to Cam, but Cam shook his head. 

“Where’s Shane?” he asked Tori once they’d gotten themselves situated. He’d ended up between Tori and Hunter, with Dustin on Hunter’s other side. 

“Shane? Couldn’t make it. He’s… You know, I don’t know what he’s doing.” Tori frowned. “I’ll tell him you said hi, though.” She brushed her hair back over her shoulder, then swept it forward again with a grimace. “Public theaters. Ugh.” 

“Then why are you here?” 

Tori grinned and patted Blake on the head. “Too cute to say no.” Blake smirked. Tori swatted him lightly in response. 

Cam turned to Hunter. “Was he always so cocky?” 

Hunter considered for a moment. “No. Not until he hooked up with Tori. I think it’s giving him ideas.” 

Blake reached across both Tori and Cam to smack his brother, and after a moment’s consideration a giggling Tori joined him. Cam flattened himself against his seat as Hunter lunged forward in retaliation, wielding a handful of Dustin’s popcorn. 

“Hey!” the mirror of the Yellow Ranger protested, holding the bag out of reach. 

“Dude!” Hunter, fending off both Tori and Blake and practically in Cam’s lap, gave Cam a look of appeal. Cam reached down and tried to push them apart. Dustin leaned backwards, still holding the bag out of reach, and laughed, pelting the four of them with popcorn. 

Cam, unable to keep from smiling himself, finally managed to pull Hunter away from the other two, but the sudden lack of resistance sent Hunter crashing into Dustin, spilling the popcorn all over the floor, and Cam himself ended up sprawled over Hunter. 

“Aw, man.” Dustin extricated himself, grinning. “Be right back.” With surprising grace and agility, he hopped over the tangled limbs in front of him and raced off. 

Cam sat up again, slowly, extending a hand to Hunter. Hunter, smiling good-naturedly, pushed Cam back into his own seat and tossed a few spilled pieces of popcorn in Blake’s general direction. 

“Hey, bro, you started this,” Blake retorted, picking the popcorn out of his hair. 

“Me? You were the one –“ 

“Actually,” Tori broke in. “Cam started it.” She looked at him, with the corner of her mouth raised in an unmistakable smirk. 

“Me?” Cam stared. “What’d I do?” 

“Yeah!” Blake chimed in. “He did!” 

“What?” Cam wasn’t sure if they were serious now; none of them were smiling any more. 

“Aah, lay off him already,” Hunter interrupted. “They’re just teasing, Cam.” 

“I know that.” Cam eyed Tori. “She does this all the time.” 

“As if!” Tori settled back into her seat, but he could tell she was amused. Even if she really hadn’t gone in for teasing much before she’d started dating Blake. When had that been? It must have been after the semester started; he didn’t recall hearing anything about Blake before the classes began. 

“Throw your own popcorn this time, dude,” Dustin’s voice startled him slightly. 

“Aw, Dustin, you shouldn’t have.” Hunter obligingly targeted Dustin. 

“Hey, hey, it’s starting!” 

The other three boys immediately quieted down as the theater darkened. Cam glanced at Tori. She shrugged, and he turned back to the screen. Simple fun like this wasn’t part of his world, not with Lothor running loose. It was surprising how much he’d missed it. 

* * *

“Shane?” Cam blinked tiredly over his morning coffee. It was too early for guessing games. Shane stood in front of him wearing a bright yellow shirt, and the lack of his signature color looked even odder than usual. It took Cam a moment to figure out why; and then he realized that Shane didn’t look as nervous as he usually did. He looked more like the Red Wind Ranger than he had since Cam had been thrown into this crazy mirror-world. “What do you need?” 

“I…” Some of the nervousness was back, but there was a sense of confidence underlying it, as if Shane had been missing something and had finally found it. “Your father… hired me.” 

Cam blinked. “As an instructor? That’s great.” He meant it, too. From what little he’d seen, Shane’s mirror didn’t have much direction. Perhaps this would give him some. 

“He says he wants me to take over, in a few years.” Shane watched him warily. 

So that was why Shane seemed nervous. Cam honestly felt glad. His father now had what he wanted – someone to take over – and Cam would be free to pursue his own life. More free than he had been, anyway. “Shane, I don’t think there’s anyone better.” 

Shane lit up. “Really?” 

Cam smiled. “Really.” The Red Ranger’s mirror had wholeheartedly embraced his father’s philosophy, neatly balancing it out with the rest of his life. He didn’t know where this Shane would go, in the end, but he couldn’t help feeling that this was a good step. 

“Thanks, man. That means a lot to me.” 

“Why?” Cam asked curiously. “Because I’m the sensei’s son?” The phrase held a bit of residual bitterness, from the days when that really had been the sum total of his role at the Wind Ninja Academy. At the moment, he felt very much like he had then. 

“No,” Shane said. “Because you’re you.” He looked past Cam, and an expression of horror choked off whatever else he might have said. Cam automatically jumped out of his chair and whirled around, the adrenaline rushing into his veins awakening him much more thoroughly than any amount of caffeine, but there was nothing there. 

“What? What did you see?” he demanded. 

“I’m gonna be so late! Kelly’s gonna kill me! Later!” Shane gave the clock a last glance and rushed out of the kitchen, banging the door behind him. Cam sank back into his chair and tried to relax. That was at least the second time in a matter of days he’d responded to a perfectly normal situation as if it had been a threat. Someone was going to notice if he kept it up, but on the other hand, he needed to be able to be alert when he got home. 

If he got home. Cam stared moodily into the dregs of his coffee. _If._

* * *

“Class dismissed,” Sensei Watanabe said. 

Cam bowed with the rest of the class and turned to drop his sparring gear near the wall. 

“You were really good out there, Cam.” Tori stood next to him, trying to unbraid her sweat-dampened hair and meeting with only marginal success. 

“Thanks.” The class had involved upper-level forms, which he hadn’t known at all, since they were completely different from any of the ninja training he’d undergone at the Academy. Fortunately, his long absence had deflected any suspicion. The second part of class had been free sparring; he’d been partnered with Dustin. 

Cam got the impression that his mirror never had taken training seriously; the look of near astonishment on his father’s face as he quickly gained the upper hand and systematically won not one but three consecutive short bouts was an indication of that. It had been too late after that to tone it down, to pretend it had been a fluke and that he was at or around the same level as the rest of the students. He’d had no choice but to continue on as he had been. 

On the other hand, he found himself uncharacteristically exhausted after what should have been a simple session. _Stupid blood._ He hadn’t paid much attention to the specifics of his anemia, other than that he needed to take some sort of medication, but he had understood the basis. 

For some reason, his body didn’t metabolize something the way it was supposed to, and as a result his red blood cells didn’t carry enough iron. The resulting lack of oxygen to his systems was enough to cause general fatigue and weakness at best if left untreated. He didn’t really want to think about worst-case scenario. Taking the medication, though, left him fairly normal for the most part, if with somewhat lowered stamina than he was used to. He was lucky it was so mild. 

“Dude, you didn’t tell me you were so good!” Dustin hit him lightly on the shoulder, and he staggered slightly before he caught himself. “You tapped out already, man?” 

“No,” Cam replied. “I’m not that good, really.” By their standards, he was on a completely different level. His reflexes had been honed and tested in real fights, not just spars. His life quite literally depended on his skills; not only his life, but also the lives of his teammates and of the people he protected. Out of practice though he felt he was, he still had the advantage. 

“Yeah, whatever, dude.” Dustin took his denial in stride, the same way he dealt with almost everything. 

“Do, ah, Hunter and Blake ever take lessons?” he asked after pulling his normal clothes on. He hadn’t seen either of them since the film festival, although he’d seen Tori several times, and he was curious. _That’s all. Just curious. They’re not even really Hunter and Blake._

“Naaah. They’re usually down at the track.” 

“They don’t train at all?” Cam was startled into asking, genuinely surprised. 

“Man, have you ever seen Hunter throw a punch?” Dustin laughed. “He’s totally off.” 

“Yeah, and Blake’s just as bad.” Tori giggled. “Neither of them could hit a target if his life depended on it. I’m surprised they keep their bikes on track.” 

“You baggin’ on my riding?” Blake asked from behind Tori. She hadn’t heard him coming, and jumped away with a little shriek. He grinned. 

“Blake!” Tori smacked him lightly on the chest. “Don’t do that!” 

Blake chuckled, and they started to walk out. As they left, Cam could hear Blake’s last comment. “Some ninja you are…” 

Cam, who _had_ heard Blake walk in the door, stifled the automatic smirk. 

“What are you looking at?” Hunter’s mirror had almost managed to sneak up on him again. Even Cam’s Hunter wasn’t this quiet, nor did he have such a propensity for playing pranks. 

“You should wear bells,” Cam retorted without looking at him, pleased that he’d heard Hunter coming this time. 

“Me-ow,” Hunter returned, eyes flicking rapidly over Cam. He looked away, but not before a flash of… had that been appreciation? “Yo, Dustin, you ready?” 

“Yeah, yeah, just a sec.” Dustin’s voice floated out of the tiny locker room. “Hey, see if Cam wants to go.” 

“Go where?” 

“Racing,” Hunter’s expression could only be described as a smirk. Dustin emerged, dressed in racing gear. Hunter was wearing it too, now that Cam actually looked at him. “Let’s go.” 

“Now?” Cam let Hunter guide him outside, with a brief nod to his father. It was pitch black out, and unless the track was lit better than he remembered it, there was no way it would be bright enough to ride safely. 

“Yeah.” As they walked across the sharp gravel, the clouds began to disperse, raining moonlight. Hunter’s smile widened, the washed-out light streaking his features contrasting oddly with the deep shadow. “Here.” He pressed a round object into Cam’s hands. 

It was a helmet. “I can dr-“ Cam started, seeing Hunter slide gracefully onto his bike without headgear. 

“Come on.” Hunter beckoned. Dustin had already mounted his bike and vanished. 

Cam sighed, put on the helmet, and awkwardly climbed onto the back of the bike. He’d ridden the Tsunami Cycles, of course, but he’d never been a passenger before. 

“Just stay behind me,” Hunter said, flicking his eyes over Cam once more. The engine revved before he had time to nod, and he grabbed Hunter instinctively around the waist as the bike peeled out of the parking lot. 

The moonlight wavered fitfully around them, coloring Hunter’s hair alternately charcoal black and silver-blonde. Hunter slapped one of the switches on, suddenly bathing the road ahead in artificial light and throwing the shadows around them into stark relief. Cam loosened his hold around Hunter’s waist just slightly and started to lean back, but Hunter reached down and pulled him forward again. 

Given Hunter’s speed, Cam was just as happy to cling to him. This bike was completely different from the Tsunami Cycles; he wasn’t in control, and he couldn’t feel the road beneath the tires. All he could feel was Hunter, shifting constantly to make the turns and keep the bike on track. Without being able to see, either, he was completely dependant on the other boy’s physical cues to keep his balance. It felt _right_ , somehow, as nothing else here had. 

The clouds had cleared away completely by the time they reached the track, and the nearly full moon stood almost directly overhead. Cam would have been happier with less light; he was sure his blush stood out clearly. Riding with Hunter not only felt right, it was arousing. He tripped trying to climb back off the bike, hoping that Hunter hadn’t noticed the sudden tightness in his jeans. 

It wasn’t the first time he’d been attracted to another man; it wasn’t even the first time he’d been attracted to Hunter. But he was fairly sure his Hunter had never considered him as anything more than a friend – even that title seemed dubious at times – and he had no claims to this Hunter. His mirror did not have the same tastes he did, of that he was certain. He wasn’t about to start something when he couldn’t follow through. 

Hunter slipped off the bike before Cam could and offered him a hand down. Cam took it for balance, cursing himself when Hunter’s hand lingered in his for a moment too long. He pulled it away as quickly as he could, and turned away. 

Tori and Blake were standing next to Dustin’s bike, Dustin on the other side. Dustin stood up as Cam approached and dusted off his hands. “Let’s hit it.” 

“You got it,” Hunter replied easily, tapping Dustin’s knuckles with his own, then Blake’s. 

“What exactly are they doing?” Cam asked Tori. 

She rolled her eyes, the gesture clearly visible even in the dim light. “They claim that riding blind gives them a feel for the track.” 

“Blind?” A sinking feeling anchored itself in Cam’s stomach. 

“Without running lights.” Tori shook her head. “Or headlights. Adrenaline junkies, all of them.” 

Cam caught himself before running after the three boys and yelling at all of them for acting so… so reckless. “They do this…” 

“All the time,” Tori supplied. She sighed, and turned to the track. The three boys were clearly visible, even without lights, and the roar of their engines seemed oddly juxtaposed against the peaceful scene. 

Cam followed suit, not looking forward to riding back with Hunter afterwards. 

* * *

“And how does that make you feel, Mr. Watanabe?” _Déjà vu._ He’d been distracted by thoughts of the previous night; Hunter had offered to give him lessons, but he’d declined, stating that he’d rather ride when he could see, thank you very much. Hunter had laughed, and driven him back. Cam didn’t know if he was disappointed or relieved that Hunter had made no further overt moves. “Mr. Watanabe?” the therapist repeated. 

“Could you,” Cam asked again, “just call me Cam?” 

“You’re avoiding the question, Mr. Watanabe. Just like you’ve been trying to avoid responsibility.” The therapist’s voice dripped with gentle reproof and invited confidence with every nuance. She was probably very good at her job most of the time, but Cam just wanted to get rid of her. 

“I’m not avoiding responsibility,” he said instead. 

“Let’s try something else,” she replied without missing a beat. “Your father is a martial artist? He runs a school?” 

“Yes,” Cam said warily, wondering just where she was going with this. 

“And when did he establish this school?” 

“Um, I don’t remember, really.” 

“So it’s been quite some time.” 

Cam nodded. _Great. She’s going to tell me that my ‘shirking responsibility’ comes from a deep-seated dislike of authority, stemming from Dad’s position as sensei._

The therapist consulted a sheet of paper. “You grew up studying martial arts. Why is that?” 

“It’s… sort of a philosophy for my father,” Cam said slowly. “A way of life. Balance. It was important that I learn about it.” 

“But you stopped studying roughly a year ago. Can you tell me why that is?” 

Cam took a deep breath. That was when Tori had said he’d stopped talking to his father. “He…” He had no idea why his mirror had stopped training, stopped going home, any of it. Not that he could _say_ that. “I want to work with computers. Technology.” _How did I get myself into this, anyway?_ “My dad didn’t go for that. He wanted me to stick to my training, take over his students later on.” _Oh yeah. I pissed off an evil space ninja by trying to keep him from conquering the Earth._ “He didn’t see me as my own person. I had to leave in order to establish myself.” _Lucky me._

“I see. And that included not training?” 

“Yes.” It had seemed like the only way to get his father to take him seriously. 

“I see.” The therapist wrote something down. “Any other reasons?” 

“No, that’s pretty much it.” Wasn’t it time to leave yet? 

“You were hospitalized a couple weeks ago. Would you like to tell me about it?” She put her pen down, clasping her hands over her crossed legs. 

“You obviously already know.” He’d never had much patience for shrinks to begin with; living with a ninja master tended to cut down on the opportunity for ‘issues’ to develop. Compared with his father, this woman was annoyingly indirect. The Wind Rangers would probably laugh if they heard him say that, though, since they often complained that the Sensei was obtuse and confusing on purpose. 

“Tell me about it.” 

Cam sighed. “I collapsed. Tori panicked. I woke up staring at a white ceiling. That’s all there is to say.” 

She smiled at him. Smiled! “I know you’re hostile towards me, Cameron. That’s all right, if that’s what you need. But I’d rather be your friend.” 

He barely suppressed a snort. Fortunately, she didn’t seem to notice. 

“Why did you collapse, Cameron?” 

Protesting wasn’t going to help end these ridiculous sessions any sooner. “I was diagnosed with mild anemia about seven weeks ago. Right before-“ he broke off. He’d been about to say, “Before I got here”. _Would have loved to pounce on that._ “Right before I met Hunter and Dustin,” he finished. 

“I see.” She leaned forward slightly, obviously waiting for him to continue. 

“I didn’t take the medication I was supposed to. I … hid it and acted like nothing had happened. Obviously, it didn’t work.” As he said it, he had a sudden mental image of the prescription bottle in his hands the day he’d moved out of the dorms. It had clearly never been opened, even though the date on the bottle was at least a week prior to his arrival; his mirror had done exactly what he’d just told the therapist he had. 

“Why did you do that, Cam?” 

“Karma,” he muttered, not sure where the word had come from. 

“Excuse me?” 

“It was… When my father… It seemed…” Emotions danced among his thoughts, vague flashes of memory pressing down and then suddenly vanishing, making it difficult to speak. “It was a punishment,” he said finally. “I thought it was worse than it actually was, that because I rejected my father’s ideals, I lost the ability to live up to them.” It sounded ridiculous when he said it out loud, but he was absolutely certain that those had been his mirror’s feelings. 

_Cam closed the door to his room, clutching the small white bag, knuckles white. No one had seen him, seen it. “This isn’t fair.”_

_The smallest drawer in the desk had a lock. He pulled it out and upended the contents over the floor, stuffed the bag inside, slammed it shut. “I’m never going to be able to have a normal life. This is going to…” Anger flowed through him, twisted by guilt. “There’s no way I… can be what Dad wants me to be, now.” It didn’t matter that he didn’t want the life his father wanted for him, the thought that he was now unable to choose was maddening._

_“This happened because I didn’t respect my father.” His father had always taught him to respect his elders and especially his ancestors. And now, because he hadn’t…_

“Cameron?” The therapist withdrew her hand from his shoulder. “Did you hear me?” 

“I’m sorry.” He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to banish the images. His hands were shaking. He clenched them into fists to make the trembling stop. _Memories?_ Had those been his mirror’s memories? “I feel a little…” 

“Are you –“ Concern, real concern, filled the therapist’s voice. 

“Fine, I’m fine, I just need a minute.” It wasn’t the first time he’d remembered something from his mirror’s life, he realized. He’d been vaguely conscious of his mirror’s life for days now, facts and emotions hovering on the edge of his subconscious, but this was the first time they’d been so… so vivid. He opened his eyes. “Actually, I’d… I’d like to go home.” 

“Are you sure you’re all right?” 

Cam nodded. “I’ll be fine.” 

The therapist held out a hand, helping him to his feet. “Perhaps-“ 

“I’ll be fine,” he repeated firmly. “Same time next week?” he added to forestall further inquiries. 

The therapist sighed. “Yes. I’ll see you then.” 

Cam drove in silence, concentrating as hard as he could on the road to block out any other thoughts. There was a class in session when he arrived back home, but he barely registered the familiar faces among the students as he walked past the dojo and towards the back of the house. His room was dark, and he didn’t bother turning the light on before wedging a chair under the doorknob and stumbling over to the bed. 

_Those were my mirror’s memories. How is that possible? Why do I have his memories?_ Cam pulled his knees up to his chest, shivering under the onslaught of images of events he _knew_ hadn’t happened to him but which he clearly remembered anyway. 

_Am I really… who I think I am?_

* * *

Something was wrong. Cam could hear sounds that shouldn’t have been present inside his father’s house; a steady beeping and a rhythmic hiss that sounded almost like a ventilator. A heavy weight pressed down on his chest, making it impossible to move. He opened his eyes, and his perspective shifted. 

Bright light overwhelmed him for the briefest of seconds, and when it faded he found himself standing in the corner of a predominantly white room. A hospital room. 

_Not again._

There was someone else in the room, though; its occupant lay in the sterile bed just under the window. Cam frowned and tried to get a closer look, but just as he started to take the first step, the door to the room opened. 

Hunter followed Blake inside, both walking carefully. Both of them bore signs of recent injury; Blake’s arm was caught up in a white sling that blazed prominently against his navy blue shirt, and Hunter brushed pale fingers against the white tape holding a bandage across his temple before closing the door. 

Hunter! Cam tried to say, but there was no sound. He tried again. Hunter! Blake! What… He rubbed his throat and realized that his movements were silent as well. His sleeve caught his eye, and he looked down to see that he was wearing his green-edged training uniform, complete with the Samurai badges. 

_What the hell is going on now?_

“Hey, Cam,” Blake said, and for a moment Cam thought that Blake _had_ heard him. But Blake kept talking, and with a sinking feeling, Cam turned towards the figure in the bed. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but Sensei says you went in there after us. I…” He paused, as if collecting his thoughts. “Thanks, Cam. It means a lot to me. To us. Hunter, he’s, ah, standing right here, but he won’t talk. Never thought I’d say this, but we miss you. Ninja Ops just isn’t the same without you there.” 

_They’re the Thunder Rangers. They’re alive._ Relief swept through him for the briefest of seconds before becoming eclipsed by shock. Cam stared down at himself, unresponsive and hooked into soulless machines. This wasn’t right. 

I’m right here! Blake! 

It was useless. They couldn’t hear him. Cam watched as Blake squeezed his limp hand and stood up to leave. Hunter stayed behind, eyes fixed at a point on the wall, unable or unwilling to look at Cam’s body. “I… I’m sorry, okay?” he muttered, and all but ran for the door. 

Cam reached out to intercept Hunter, but the moment he touched the Crimson Ranger, the room dissolved around him. 

“Cam!” 

He felt himself start to fall and reflexively grabbed for a handhold. His fingers closed around a branch and sunlight flooded into his eyes. 

“Oh my god, Cam!” Tori. That was Tori’s voice. Cam looked down through the brilliantly colored autumn leaves. Tori stood at the base of the tree in which he was crouched, neck craned back. “What are you doing up there?” she asked as soon as he’d regained his balance. 

_What_ am _I doing up here? Oh, that’s right._

“Your dad’s worried about you. He said you didn’t go home last night. Were you here the whole time?” Cam wondered absently if Tori would climb the tree after him. Even if she did, he could get away. 

He didn’t want to see or talk to anyone. He’d stared at the schematics he’d designed, the ones intended to detect a portal. Maybe there wasn’t a portal after all; maybe he’d just imagined the whole thing. He had no proof of being a Ranger. He thought he remembered it clearly; he thought he could set out the events of his life as he remembered it. But when he tried, the images got mixed up with vague memories of high school, college, his father’s dojo… 

He’d tried to separate them out. Take his childhood growing up at the Wind Ninja Academy, the attack by Lothor, his father’s unfortunate predicament, the Wind Rangers, the Thunder Rangers, and his trip back through time for the Samurai amulet and place them as a coherent whole. And he had succeeded. His mirror’s memories and his own were completely differentiated. Two conflicting sets of information, one more vivid but much more absurd than the other. And he had begun to doubt the memories of the ‘other world’. 

“Go away, Tori.” He needed to sort things out. He needed to be able to figure out what was real. Part of him told him that his own mind was not the most reliable tool for determining its own state, but he had no choice. No one in this world would believe him, even if he _was_ sane. 

“Can I come up?” She made no move to actually climb the tree, which was just as well. If she had, he would have been gone before her feet left the ground. 

“No. Go away.” Why wasn’t she leaving? 

“The guys are off camping this weekend.” Was she trying to start a conversation? What was this? “Hunter and Blake were supposed to be practicing, but they got kicked off the track for a couple of weeks.” Cam didn’t answer. Maybe if he didn’t say anything, she’d go away. “Something about street bikes and inadequate lighting.” 

Cam almost smiled despite himself. So Hunter had gotten in trouble for that little escapade, had he? Maybe it would encourage him to stop. Riding blind like that was dangerous. 

“So since I was on my own, I thought I’d come say hi. And then your dad said he couldn’t find you. I guess he doesn’t know about this place, huh?” Tori had backed up until she could see him without straining her neck, giving him more space at the same time. 

“I… guess I lost track of time,” Cam said. “Would you please go away now?” 

“I kinda told him that I knew where you were and that I’d bring you back.” Tori shrugged apologetically. “But I could tell him I really need help in my computer class if you wanna stay with me instead.” 

She wasn’t going to leave him alone. And even if he did use the trees as a means of escape, she’d follow him. He couldn’t move as quickly as she could, not in their present positions. He sighed. “Fine.” 

Cam dropped the twenty feet to the ground, flipping over once and absorbing the shock of landing perfectly. It was something he’d done countless times during his ninja training. Tori stared at him, though. “I didn’t know you could do that.” 

“Do what?” He hadn’t even thought about it. 

“Nothing.” She gave him an odd look. “Come on.” 

* * *

“Mr. Watanabe.” The therapist sighed. “I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me. And today, you’ve said even less than you usually do. Obviously something has happened. Would you like to tell me what it is?” 

Cam didn’t look at her. It had been difficult enough keeping a façade up in front of Tori and his father. It was worse when every word he said – or didn’t say – was analyzed twelve different ways. 

“Cameron,” she prompted. 

“I… had a dream,” he said finally. 

“Go on.” 

“Dreams… Dreams represent what’s in a person’s subconscious, right?” 

“They can, and often do.” She frowned slightly. “Dreams are made of your experiences, your thoughts, desires… Why do you ask?” 

Cam tried to find the right wording for his next question. “If I had a dream that…” He stopped. _I can’t just say ‘I had a dream corresponding to memories that I think might be delusions, does that mean I’m crazy?’!_ He tried again. “If I had this… this idea, and it showed up in a dream, then that just means that it’s all in my head, right?” 

“What kind of idea?” 

“Like…” Cam cast around. “I dreamed about the portal that was in my journal.” Not quite the truth, but not far from it. 

“That’s perfectly normal,” the therapist told him. 

“It is?” 

“Of course. Things we think about during the day are the most likely to show up in dreams. Were you thinking about this portal?” 

“Not really,” Cam lied. But the dream had seemed so vivid. So real. If it had been accurate – if he really was trapped in another world – if that was true, then the other Rangers had no idea what had happened. His mirror was in no shape to tell them. 

The therapist opened her mouth. 

Just before she spoke, the clock struck, ending the session. “I’ll, um, see you next week,” he said, and walked out as quickly as he could. 

“Next week,” she agreed behind him. 

Shane was waiting in the dojo when he got back. It made Cam wonder if there was a conspiracy afoot to keep him from getting time to himself to think. 

“Yo, Cam.” Shane tossed him an apple. 

“What is it?” He caught it reflexively. 

“Listen, you think we could do a little sparring this afternoon? You were really good the other day, and I’d like you to teach me.” 

Cam dropped the apple. “You want _me_ to teach _you_.” 

“Is something wrong?” 

“Uh, no.” The apple was bruised beyond recovery when he picked it up. “It just seems a little… well, strange.” Shane asking for sparring lessons was like Lothor taking up needlepoint. The Red Ranger would never have done something like that. “Is now okay?” Sparring with Shane would get rid of him almost as quickly as telling him to go away, and it would keep him happy. And not complaining about Cam. 

“Sure.” Shane started towards the practice room, but Cam shook his head. 

“Let’s do this outside.” 

“In street clothes?” 

Cam thought about it. “Yes. It’s good practice.” 

“Whatever you say,” Shane muttered. 

The sun was almost directly overhead, its warmth welcome in the cooling November weather. Leaves, still crisp with recent lack of rain, crackled under their feet as they walked. “Come at me.” 

Shane’s technique was good, but his fighting style was clumsy. Against someone who’d never fought for his life, he would have done well. Cam had him flat on his back within moments. 

“Uh, Cam,” Shane said hesitantly. “You’re not supposed to hit below the belt.” 

“Oh. Right.” He’d used a low sweep kick to knock Shane’s legs out from underneath him and followed through with an elbow to the solar plexus. Not, of course, that he’d actually hit Shane, just tapped him slightly. “Sorry.” He pulled Shane to his feet. 

Shane rubbed his chest and grimaced. “’S all right.” 

“Just, um, remember that your opponent will be unpredictable.” 

“You’re the most unpredictable one I’ve ever had,” Shane said ruefully. “Again?” 

Cam tried to remember that he was sparring, and with restrictions at that, but it was difficult. And despite his head knowing better, he kept expecting Shane to be better than he was. The fourth round ended with Shane once again on the ground, but he had at least succeeded in improving slightly. 

“Sorry. Again.” Cam extended a hand. 

“You call that pulling your punches?” Shane sounded more amused than annoyed. “Where did you learn to fight like that, anyway? ‘Cause it wasn’t your father. He’s good, but not as good as you are.” 

“I’m not that good,” Cam replied. Then it struck him. _Of course! That’s the answer!_ It was so clear, so blindingly obvious, that he’d missed it completely. 

_I’m not crazy. It really is real._ It had to be. There was no other explanation for his fighting skills. He’d thought it himself, dozens of times. ‘The best plan doesn’t survive the first encounter with the enemy.’ His mirror had never _had_ the kind of enemy that Lothor had been. He’d never really learned to fight. He hadn’t thrown himself into his training the way Cam had, the way he’d _had_ to. 

_That’s my proof._

The relief was incredible. Even though he still didn’t know why he was remembering his mirror’s life, why he had no sense of the ninja elements, how he was going to make the detector, at least he knew that what he was searching for was real. _I don’t know how I’m going to get home, but there’s a home for me to reach towards._

“You look better, all of a sudden,” Shane ventured. 

Cam smiled sardonically at Shane. “Thank you. I’ll take that as a compliment.” 

“Ready for another round?” Shane levered himself up. 

“I’m actually a little tired.” It wasn’t entirely untrue. But he’d been wasting time; he needed to find a way home. _I have to get started on that detector._

“Oh, man, I’m sorry.” Shane made the transition from ‘sparring partner’ to ‘mother hen’ in less than a second. “Want me to take you inside?” 

Cam looked at him flatly. “Shane, would I have sparred with you if I wasn’t up to it?” 

“Guess not.” Shane grinned sheepishly. “Catch you later, man.” 

Cam watched him leave, feeling the unaccustomed burn of fatigue in a body that wasn’t truly his. _The sooner I get out of here the better._

* * *

“Cam? Dude?” That was Dustin’s voice. He could feel the weight pressing down on his chest again, telling him that he was dreaming. He tried to move, to respond, but when he opened his eyes, he was standing outside his body again. 

Shane and Dustin were apparently visiting him now. Dustin had pulled a chair up towards the bed and was straddling it backwards. He was holding Cam’s hand. “Dude, can he even hear us?” he asked Shane. 

“I don’t know, man,” Shane answered, shrugging and then wincing as if the movement was painful. “Cam? We want you to wake up soon. CyberCam’s really getting annoying, and you’re the only one that can fix him.” 

“Actually, dude, we just want you to get better. Shane promises to stop skateboarding in Ninja Ops and everything.” 

“Hey, I only did that once,” Shane protested. 

“Yeah, well, he says he’ll totally quit.” Dustin grinned, but it only lasted a second. 

“Lothor trashed us pretty bad last time out, Cam. We need you. And not just as the Green Ran-“ 

“Shane!” Dustin called urgently. Cam edged closer, trying to see over Dustin’s shoulder. “He heard us!” His mirror – his body? – was gripping Dustin’s hand tightly, knuckles going white under the pressure. 

“Cam!” Shane leaned over the figure. Cam felt a chill race through him, just as the other Cam’s eyes shot open and every monitor flatlined. “Oh no…” 

“Cam! Cam!” Dustin shouted, shaking the other Cam urgently. Cam backed away, unable to take his eyes off of his own blankly staring face. 

“Help! We need some help in here!” Shane ran for the door, his path taking him straight through Cam. 

Feeling as if he’d been drenched in ice water, Cam sat bolt upright in bed with a gasp. 

* * *

The tank was as clean as it was going to get. Its surface shone, long and wide with almost no depth at all. The photomultiplier tubes lined one wall, densely packed, sensitivity rigged to the highest level he could manage. Cam poured the deionized water into the tank and prepared to seal it off, trying to make sure that no impurities blurred the detector’s sensitivity. 

He’d spent the last four days in the physics lab at Blue Bay University, working to piece together the components he’d acquired. By the time he’d talked his way into using the university’s lab over Thanksgiving break – when there would be no interruptions – he’d gotten everything except the power source. At this point, he no longer clearly remembered nor did he care exactly what he’d had to do to get his hands on the equipment necessary to build the detector. 

_Rangers, we have gathered here to honor the memory-_

Cam shook the echo of his father’s voice out of his head. The dreams hadn’t stopped. After the second time he’d seen his own world, he’d been frantic to find a way back. _I can’t be dead._ Even if his body wasn’t there to return to, he had to try. The idea that his mirror had died in his place was a thought he shied away from, not wanting to face the implications. He’d had the third dream barely two days after the second, before he’d managed to get the parts he needed and convince the university to let him use the lab. It had lent him an edge of desperation. 

Despite his resolve, the memory swept over him again. 

_“Rangers, we have gathered here to honor the memory and the sacrifice of the Green Samurai Ranger, Cameron Watanabe.” The words, delivered in his father’s measured voice, sounded almost absurd coming from a guinea pig dressed in a ninja master’s robes. Cam, standing close enough to the casket to reach out and brush his fingers along the side with only the slightest movements, couldn’t repress the sense of utter surreality at the scene unfolding before him._

_The Rangers were standing in a knot at the center of where the Academy had once stood. Gusts of wind whipped Tori’s long hair around her shoulders, but for once she was paying it no attention. Instead, she buried her face in Blake’s shirt. Sensei stood on some sort of stand, somber and outwardly composed. His mask of calm could not hide the brittle rigidity of his stance. More than anything, Cam wanted to reach out to his father, assure him that he was all right. And yet, if he did so, he would accomplish no more than severing this tenuous connection to his world._

_“According to the ancient and honored tradition, we ask that the elements of the ninja guide his spirit on his journey.” The Rangers shifted at these words, moving farther apart. Each now stood in a bubble of space, isolated and untouched._

They’re going to call the elements. 

_Manifestation of the elements was an honor reserved for those who had sacrificed themselves in the line of duty. In his lifetime, Cam had never seen it accorded anyone, and he knew that the same was true of his father. It was carried out by those ninjas who had achieved the highest levels of symbiosis with their chosen element._ This is… _It was almost unbearable to watch._

_“Power of fire.”_

_Cam felt a moment’s confusion; none of the Rangers were aligned with fire. Then his father turned around and raised his paws, and he understood. His father had mastered all the elements. Crackling flames surrounded him without warning, and he automatically ducked out of the way before remembering that nothing could touch him. He could no more feel the heat of the flames dancing around his body than he could make his father hear his voice._

Wait. He’s burning my body! 

_Cam felt a moment of complete hopelessness as the thought sunk in. If he had no body to return to… But Sensei was speaking again, and he had to listen._

_“Power of air.”_

_Shane stepped forward, raising his hands and sending a whirlwind to fan the already intense flames. In turn, Tori stepped forward to quench the fire with water and Dustin buried the silvery ashes deep. It should have ended there, but Sensei nodded one more time._

_“Power of thunder.”_

_Blake moved away from a now silently crying Tori, and Cam realized with a jolt that Hunter wasn’t there at all. A peal of sound echoed through the cloudless sky, seeming almost to shake the ground in sympathy._

_“It is finished.”_

Cam shook off the memories. Sealing the tank was taking longer than he’d thought it would, and fitting it into the frame of the detector took longer still. The device was heavy, constructed of glass and metal and water, but he could easily lift it and move it from place to place. For a moment, he simply looked at it, eyes tracing the glistening paths of circuitry and wire fracturing the light of the setting sun. 

It was nearly finished now, lacking only a power source. Driven by a lifetime of habit, Cam cleared away the remnants of his work before drawing the curtains and leaving the lab in search of another infusion of caffeine. He only had one day remaining before the university students returned; unusual in a world driven by commerce, Blue Bay University closed down completely during the holidays. The staff and students made up for the loss of time by working like fiends incarnate once the school reopened. It meant that he would have to leave. 

_I really need a power source._

The caffeine wasn’t helping him think. As far as he knew, there was no way he was going to get his hands on a radioactive substance of a high enough grade; it simply wasn’t possible. He didn’t have the necessary connections, and he couldn’t have acquired it legally here even if he did. But he could think of no other way to get the power necessary to boost the signal transmission and still remain portable. 

_Hold on, I don’t need to transmit the signal. I’m taking it with me._

He’d been operating on the assumption that the device would be identical to the one he’d left hooked into Ninja Ops, monitoring the portal to the past. Of course he didn’t need to transmit the information any distance; he’d be right there with it. _Slowing down, are we, Cam?_ He squashed the thought, and all but ran back to the lab to recalculate the power specifications. 

* * *

_Solar energy._ Without having to worry about signal relay or automatic warning systems, the detector would run off two nine-volt batteries and a fully charged high-energy solar panel. _The lab keeps them in storage, as backup for… something._ He’d seen them while looking for other equipment he’d borrowed. It shouldn’t be a problem as long as he returned it when he was finished. 

Cam shook his head to refocus his vision as he wired the solar panel into place. He’d had snatches of other dreams, in the few moments of sleep he’d allowed himself while building the detector. Each one had been vividly intense, as if feeding off his barely contained emotions. He’d seen Shane try to talk Sensei into finding a replacement for the Samurai Ranger. His father had flatly refused. 

Sensei had also shut CyberCam down, at least at first. Cam had seen him online later, but the cybernetic replicant had been uncharacteristically sober and silent. The silly green hat seemed even more out of place now. 

He’d barely seen Hunter at all; the Crimson Ranger seemed to be going out of his way to avoid contact with anyone. The other Rangers spent an inordinate amount of time together, but they were oddly subdued. 

Cam had pulled himself out of the dreams as soon as he could, each time. They were too painful to watch, especially the visions of his father. _I thought he’d handle it better. I thought they all would._ His father was supposed to be an invincible ninja master, not ruled by his feelings. Instead, it seemed as if Cam’s absence was like the removal of a vital cog; without it, the Rangers could not function. _It’s not right._

The detector was finished, now, except for the charge on the solar panel. Cam wrapped it up and walked out of the building just as the rising sun peeked over the horizon. If he’d thought there was anything mystic enough in this world to send signs, he’d have taken that as a good one. 

Charging the detector was the final step; as far as he was able to tell, he wouldn’t be able to use the it until the following morning. All he could do now was wait. 

* * *

Cam couldn’t go home yet; there would be far too many questions raised, too many inquiries and suspicions. He almost felt guilty that his mirror would have to answer for his actions if this worked, but it was better than the alternative. _Better than him dying instead of me._ If it wasn’t too late already. He didn’t want to consider that he might not manage to make it back to his friends. If he stopped to think too much about it, logic told him that there was nothing he could do, that even if he made it back, his body was dead and there was no place for him to return to. But he still had to try. 

He drove out to the most isolated edge of the cliffs overlooking the ocean and set the detector on the roof of the car, facing the rising sun. No one came out here; in his world, they’d sometimes tried luring monsters to the cliffs to fight, to cut down on the risk of civilian casualties. Cracking the windows open, he stared out at the hypnotic motion of the waves, waiting, and slept dreamlessly for the first time in weeks. 

The following morning saw him impatient to begin. The final wait of nearly twenty-four hours had been almost more nerve-wracking than any other part of his experience in this world. With nothing to do, his thoughts had been deafening. But it was almost over now. Soon he would _know_ whether or not he could return home. 

Cam started searching near where he’d woken up in his mirror’s body, activating the detector, holding it towards the light to ensure that it would have enough energy to function properly. It worked exactly as it was supposed to, as far as he could tell. It wasn’t registering the presence of the particles at all, but that could be because there simply weren’t any. It wasn’t as if beryllium-7 type neutrinos were common, which was why, out of all the emissions a portal created, he’d chosen to look for them. 

The campus was still empty as he left it, having failed to locate anything resembling a portal. He tried the forest next, searching all the locations that had held portals or any other concentration of energy in his world. He held the highest hopes for either the entrance to the Academy or the place where he’d gone into the past, but both of them were empty. It was dark as he finally gave up, defeated. There was nowhere in this world’s Blue Bay Harbor that held any unusual radiation, and he had failed. There was absolutely no way back. 

_It’s over._

To know that he could not find a way home was almost a relief in that the crushing weight of uncertainty had been removed. He knew now where he stood; he was sure of his memories and his past, and he knew where he would be in his future. It was almost – almost – liberating. 

Despair followed hard on the heels of the initial relief, intertwined around it. What did it matter if he _knew_ or not, since he couldn’t go home again? He was permanently trapped in a twisted and shallow world, without magic, without the experience of things beyond the mundane plane of existence. He was stuck with warped versions of the Rangers, almost the same but just different enough to put him on edge, versions that his mirror had never known and who certainly didn’t number him as a friend. Worst of all, his father… his father was like a total stranger. 

The car’s interior light failed to come on as Cam placed the detector in the passenger seat, habit once again guiding him to treat the equipment gently although he would have been just as happy to toss it over the nearest cliff. Without its illumination, he didn’t notice the presence of a street bike that would have been colored crimson until he heard Hunter’s voice. 

“Hey, Cam.” 

He didn’t have the energy to deal with Hunter. It was too much to look at the Crimson Ranger’s mirror when he would never see the Crimson Ranger again. 

Hunter was not deterred by his silence; when Hunter wanted something, he went after it single-mindedly. “What are you doing out here so late?” 

“Here?” Cam responded, startled into replying. As far as he knew, he had walked back from where a portal had once been. There was nothing special about this place. 

“The track. It’s right over there.” Hunter pointed. Cam could barely see it in the dark. 

“It is?” Maybe the answer-them-to-make-them-go-away tactic would work as well on Hunter as it did on Shane. Somehow, he doubted it. 

“Then you’re not following me.” Without being able to see Hunter’s face, Cam couldn’t read his emotions at all. 

Irritation flared, and for a moment Cam was angry at this Hunter simply because he wasn’t the Crimson Ranger and never would be. “I have more important things to do than stalk you like some psychopath,” he snapped, and slammed the passenger door shut. 

“Oh.” Hunter was silent for a moment. Cam had started to walk away when he felt Hunter grasp his arm. “Wanna talk about it?” 

“Excuse me?” Of all the things he might have expected to hear from Hunter, this was way down on the list. He must have misheard the other boy. 

“You’re pissed about something. Wanna talk about it?” Hunter let go, but didn’t move any farther away. 

No, he had heard correctly. “Why?” he asked, curious now. 

Hunter shrugged. Or Cam thought he shrugged. He couldn’t quite see. “Isn’t that what friends do?” he returned. 

“I… guess.” _He considers me a friend?_

“Well?” Hunter’s tone was definitely expectant. 

“Well what?” Cam stared, slightly at a loss. 

“You wanna talk or what?” 

Cam thought about it. Seriously thought about it. “Maybe next time.” 

“I’m gonna hold you to that.” Hunter hit him lightly on the shoulder. “And hey, man, the offer for riding lessons still stands.” 

Cam almost smiled. “Didn’t I tell you I’d rather ride when I can see?” 

“Great. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

Before Cam could respond, Hunter was gone, and somehow, he felt a lot better than he had in a long time. _Maybe I can live in this world after all._

* * *

“Hunter.” 

Cam opened his eyes to see Hunter’s fist flying straight at his face. He dodged, surprised and not wanting to hit back, and Hunter hit solid rock. Cam landed hard on his back, bits of dust raining through him, and understood. _I’m dreaming._

“Hunter.” It had been Blake who had spoken, and he sounded worried at having to repeat himself. “Hey.” He pulled Hunter away from the hapless boulder that now bore hairline fractures as a result of Hunter’s beating. “Let me see that.” 

Hunter silently submitted to his brother’s ministrations, staring moodily at the horizon as Blake examined his hands for signs of damage. 

“You’re lucky,” Blake commented. “Might wanna stop hitting rocks, though. One of these days they’ll hit back.” To Cam, Blake sounded almost like he was lost, using a feeble attempt at a joke to get any reaction he could out of his brother. “Sensei wants us to meet the… the next Samurai Ranger,” he said after a moment. 

“Cam’s replacement?” Hunter’s voice was harsh when he finally spoke. “It’s about time.” 

Despite the events of the previous day, the words still hurt. Cam closed his eyes briefly, and when he looked again, Hunter was wiping a hand roughly across his cheeks. _He…_

“I miss him too, bro.” Blake spoke quietly, rubbing his fingers gently across the bruised skin of Hunter’s hand. “It’s not your fault, you know,” he added. 

Cam blinked. Blake wasn’t usually so perceptive. From the look on Hunter’s face, he was just as startled as Cam. “W-what?” 

“Hunter.” Blake leaned forward. “Cam went into that building because he thought it was the right thing to do. Any one of us would have done the same. We all knew the risks when we became Rangers, bro. Cam was willing to face that. Don’t make it worth nothing.” 

Hunter regarded steadily Blake for a moment before a tiny grin crept over his face. “You’ve been taking lessons from Sensei,” he accused. “Looking to become head teacher?” 

“No way!” Blake retorted, but he sounded relieved. “Come on, let’s go back to Ninja Ops.” 

As Hunter moved to follow his brother, Cam saw him pause briefly and reach out. At the sensation of Hunter’s fingers brushing over his skin, the bright vision of his world shattered like stained glass. 

* * *

“I feel… all right.” 

“Well, I’m certainly glad to hear that, Mr. Watanabe – Cameron.” The therapist smiled warmly, and for once it didn’t irritate Cam. Much. “Have you spoken to your father this week?” 

“I live with him. Of course we’ve spoken.” Maybe he _was_ a little annoyed. 

“No, Cameron, I mean have you spoken with him regarding your education.” 

“I’ve registered for classes with the intent to graduate in May. He’s agreed.” 

“When do those start?” 

“Week after next. Monday. I’ll be moving back to campus,” he added before she could ask. “My father and I both think it’s a good idea.” 

While his relationship with his mirror’s father was strange, he was beginning to come to terms with it. He had discovered that his mirror’s father was much easier to appreciate when he wasn’t hovering, for instance. And Cam living with him meant protracted hovering. 

“I’m glad to hear that you’re getting along so well with him.” The therapist, for once, did not assume that he was running away. 

It wasn’t only his relationship with his father that had changed over the preceding weeks and months. Upon coming to this world, he had initially had only the desire to leave. That desire had not diminished, even when it seemed impossible. And then it _had_ proven impossible, and he had had to live with that. Despite the ray of hope Hunter had given him just after he knew he was trapped, it had been incredibly difficult to accept. 

In some ways, Cam still wanted nothing more than to simply go home. But at the same time, he knew he would miss the Rangers’ mirrors. Shane’s steadily decreasing shyness as he finally began to find his place, Dustin’s purely childlike enthusiasm (although he had to admit that out of all of them, Dustin’s mirror was most like his counterpart), Tori’s take-charge attitude, the lack of shadow overlying every motion Blake made… it was all beginning to seem as familiar to him as if he’d been there his entire life. 

The memories of his mirror’s life remained, softer and somehow a step removed from his own, almost as if trying to make his adjustment easier. He’d thought about them, wondered if they were actually real, and finally had asked Tori – as the biology student – how memories really worked. She’d lost him in the discussion, but he’d come away thinking that perhaps his mirror’s body itself held the memories, and he had only needed to learn to access them. Not that it mattered, in the end. 

“Have you had any more nightmares, Cameron?” 

Cam jumped slightly, the therapist’s voice startling him out of his thoughts. “No. I haven’t.” She’d asked him about dreams after he’d brought up the subject, and he’d finally told her that he had been having recurring nightmares about losing something. It wasn’t that far from the truth. “Not for the last five weeks. I think… it’s over.” 

That, at least, was completely true. He hadn’t seen his world since he’d learned he couldn’t return to it. 

“I think that’s a good sign, Cameron.” She smiled again. “You’ve changed completely since the first time I saw you, you know. It’s very unusual for someone to turn around so rapidly.” 

He blinked. It was a rather odd statement for a shrink to make. 

“I’ll see you next week. Same time.” 

Cam nodded. Outside, it was cold – for California, at least – and he shivered slightly in the wind. The year would be ending in just a few days, and the new year would start. An arbitrary measure of time, perhaps, but he would also be making a new beginning. It almost seemed like a sign. He remembered the rising sun just as he’d finished the detector, though. _Then again, this place doesn’t give signs._

“Signs? What signs?” 

Startled for the second time in the space of ten minutes, Cam nevertheless managed not to jump. “What are you doing out here?” At least he no longer automatically assumed that he would be attacked. 

Hunter shrugged, and waved vaguely at the surrounding businesses. “Thought it might be nice to tour the area. See the sights. So,” he smirked. “What’s a nice guy like you doing in a place like this?” 

Cam sighed. Hunter was irrepressible. And he was what Cam would have missed the most about this world, if he had had to leave it. “Taking over the world,” he retorted. 

Hunter grinned. “Sounds like fun.” 

“You have no idea. I’m waiting for the guys in spandex suits to show up.” 

This Hunter was less serious; like his brother, he wasn’t marked by the painful memories and regrets that haunted both the Thunder Rangers. It made it easier to laugh and joke with him. And Cam got riding lessons; not that he didn’t know how to ride the Tsunami Cycles, but Hunter was teaching him how to handle a street bike. He was much less possessive than the Crimson Ranger ever had been. 

_Why am I comparing them?_

“…so you’ll go,” Hunter finished. 

“What?” He’d entirely missed what Hunter had said. 

“I’ll pick you up on Friday at eight.” Again, he was gone before Cam could react. _Hunter never pulled vanishing acts like this._ Cam shook his head and finally made it across the parking lot. 

There _were_ differences. Of course there were differences. He was getting to know a group of people who had never been touched by the Power, never been given the incredible responsibility that came along with it. A year ago, Cam would have said that there was no way that the people who would become the Wind Rangers would be able to handle it. Four months ago, he would have said that nothing short of the shock of the Power would have shaken them on track. Now, he knew that the Rangers were more than their powers. These mirrors were every bit as admirable as their counterparts, just in slightly different ways. And knowing that, he also knew that everything was going to be just fine. 

* * *

_-pain-_

Had Cam been aware of his previous sentiment as a cognitive statement, he would have rescinded it. He had no idea where he was, or how he had gotten there. All he knew was that his head felt ready to split open. 

“Hey, Cam.” 

Hunter was whispering. It still sounded incredibly loud. One thought wriggled free of the general haziness clouding his mind. _This must be Ninja Ops. Where else would I wake up and hear Hunter?_

“Lothor hits harder than he used to.” Cam swallowed. Speaking wasn’t a good idea. 

“Lothor?” Did Hunter sound puzzled? 

“You know, evil space ninja? My uncle?” Cam managed through clenched teeth. _Maybe he got hit on the head, too._

“Oookay, that’s it. I am never letting you drink again.” Hunter sounded slightly worried. After a brief pause, he added, “Hey, isn’t your uncle a lawyer or something?” 

_Oh, that’s right. I’m not in Ninja Ops. There is no Lothor here._ Cam opened his eyes against his better judgment. It hurt, and he squinted, trying to block out the light. He made a move to get up and something that had been nagging at the edges of his attention finally made it to the fore. Cam pulled the sheet around himself and asked the obvious question with as much dignity as he could muster, given the current circumstances. 

“Why am I naked?” 

Hunter was trying not to laugh. He could tell. “I’ve got some clothes for you to wear.” 

Cam groaned mentally. Hunter was avoiding the point. He tried again. “Where are _my_ clothes?” 

“Uh…” Hunter eyed the floor. 

Cam buried his face in his hands. While his body was starting to feel better than it had a few minutes ago, compared to his mental state it was insignificant. “Hunter.” 

“What do you remember?” Hunter was eyeing _him_ now. 

He remembered Hunter picking him up as he’d apparently agreed upon a few days ago. He remembered Hunter saying something about New Year’s Eve. That was all. 

And Hunter was apparently trying to explain, now. “I should, uh, apologize. It’s a thing the guys do, sometimes, and I tried to stop you, but it was too late, and then you, uh… nobody saw you anyway, except me…” 

_He got me drunk?!_ Cam felt his face heat up, in either anger or embarrassment, and the vague image of a bonfire and several chanting voices shimmered before his eyes for a moment. 

“I did try to stop you, but…” Hunter was babbling. Hunter didn’t babble. 

Cam held up a hand, just to get him to stop. “I don’t want to know.” Probably. 

“It won’t happen next time.” The look Hunter was giving him looked almost like he was trying to imitate Dustin’s puppy-eyed gaze, but at that moment Cam was not inclined to be particularly generous. 

“What makes you think there’s going to be a next time?” He wasn’t entirely serious as he said it, though, and Hunter relaxed slightly. 

“Clothes are on the chair. It’s almost noon, by the way,” Hunter told him, and left him alone, presumably so he could dress in private. After a few minutes, Cam did so, noting thankfully that the pants, at least, were his. Even if nothing else was. 

“How are you feeling?” Hunter asked when he emerged. 

“I’ll live.” He felt surprisingly good, considering how he’d felt when he’d woken up. 

“Good. I was about to wake you up again.” 

“Again?” Cam looked at the clock; it was nearly three. 

“Yeah.” Hunter offered him a banana. “Hungry?” He was completely casual, acting as if there was nothing out of the ordinary about Cam waking up in his bed sans clothing. 

Cam shook his head; a banana was a little too much. “About last night…” 

Hunter shrugged. “It’s all right.” 

That worked, he supposed. _Maybe I’m the one overreacting._

“Wanna ride back?” Hunter asked abruptly. 

Hunter was silent during the surprisingly short trip, and said nothing when he dropped Cam off. Cam watched him drive away, wondering exactly what he did mean to Hunter. 

* * *

“Hunter. Like guys.” Dustin stared at him with an incredulous expression. “Dude, lemme get this straight. You just asked me if Hunter goes for guys.” 

“Stupid question, I guess.” Cam started to turn away. The last weekend before he started class had turned out to be sunny and warm, and he’d gone down to the track hoping to run into Hunter. He didn’t know what he wanted to say, exactly, but when he’d seen Dustin instead, an idea had crystallized, and he’d asked Dustin before really thinking about it. 

“Dude, no.” Dustin was _laughing_. “I’ve never seen him even _look_ at a chick.” 

“Oh.” He probably should have asked Hunter directly, but it was a relief to know. “Listen, Dustin –“ He’d been about to ask Dustin not to mention the short conversation to Hunter, but Dustin suddenly craned his neck around and grinned. 

“There he is! Hey! Hunter!” He waved enthusiastically, and Cam looked over his shoulder to see Hunter change directions and come towards them. 

“Hey,” he said awkwardly. 

Hunter looked happy to see him. “Hey, Cam.” As happy as Hunter ever really looked, anyway. “Come for the race? You just made it.” His voice sounded slightly strained, as if he were trying just a little too hard to act normal. 

_He’s racing today? Is he nervous about that?_ “Uh, yeah.” 

Hunter laughed, and Cam thought he must have been mistaken. “No, you didn’t. But you’re going to watch anyway.” 

“Just making sure you and your sense of direction don’t miss the track,” Cam returned. 

“Couldn’t miss it in the dark,” Hunter shot back. “I’ve tried. See you in a few.” 

Cam turned to ask Dustin where exactly they should watch from, but Dustin was already tugging on his arm. “Over here, over here.” 

So it was that Cam had a remarkably good view of several bikes tearing around in what seemed like interminable circles. Hunter – bike and racing gear both in primary blue, which still seemed wrong – was easily visible. Being so close to the track also meant that Cam had an especially spectacular view of the last few seconds of the race, and he clearly saw the rider in orange skid across the dirt in a decidedly uncontrolled fashion, colliding with at least two other bikes and forcing a third off the track completely before it, too, crashed spectacularly. 

Before he knew he was moving, he was running towards the third bike. “Hunter!” 

For the briefest of seconds, he was certain that the downed figure wasn’t moving at all, that Hunter had ironically fallen victim to a bike when he’d successfully evaded Lothor for months on end. Cam pushed the thought of the Crimson Ranger out of his head. “Hunter!” 

Hunter was climbing to his feet as Cam approached, a little scraped, but nothing serious. Cam had to ask anyway. “Are you all right?” In that moment, Cam had been suddenly sure how he felt about Hunter. There were no more uncertainties, no more comparisons to the Crimson Ranger, there was just … Hunter. It was exactly what he wanted. 

“I can’t believe it,” Hunter replied, inspecting the bike. “Look at this.” He pointed to part of the bike’s innards that didn’t look like much of anything to Cam. “Just look at it. It’ll take hours to fix.” 

“Forget the bike. Are you okay?” 

“Of course I’m okay,” Hunter said distractedly. “That was –“ He stopped suddenly and looked at Cam. A smile started to make its way over his features, but somewhere it turned into a smirk instead. “Don’t tell me you were worried.” 

“I…” Cam hesitated. 

“Look, Cam, don’t play games with me.” Hunter’s face was more open than he had ever seen it, and he looked both pleading and frustrated. From behind him, Cam could hear the sounds of concerned people – paramedics? Spectators? – running towards them. 

“I – that –“ The last thing he’d wanted was for Hunter to think that he was trying to manipulate him. “You wanna go out some time?” he asked rapidly, before the well-meaning and incredibly ill-timed crowd could arrive. 

“No games,” Hunter said insistently, giving him a searching look. 

_What’s up with him?_

“No games,” Cam repeated. 

“It’s a date,” Hunter nodded once before the first of the group rushed in, effectively separating them. 

* * *

Hunter, much to his obvious disgust, had been taken to the nearest hospital along with the other three drivers who’d crashed in order to ensure that he really was all right, and it wasn’t until the next day that Cam was able to reach him again. 

“Cam? Oh, man, am I glad to hear you,” Hunter said when Cam finally managed to get a call through to him. “Dude, these guys are nuts. They kept wanting to do _tests_ , even though I’m totally _fine_ …” He went on in this vein for several minutes, sounding almost like Dustin. _You’d think he’d never crashed his bike before._ The bike was in much worse shape than Hunter was; Blake had already started fixing it, but it would take time before Hunter could race it again. 

“I called to see what time to pick you up,” Cam interjected when Hunter paused for breath. 

“Cam.” Hunter paused, and Cam could hear him shifting position. “I need… On New Year’s…” He paused again, and Cam frowned in confusion. “Why did you kiss me that night?” Hunter asked abruptly. 

Cam blinked. “I did what?” He didn’t remember it at all. 

“What did you _think_ you were doing, then?” It was either an accusative statement or an embarrassed one, and Cam couldn’t tell which. Maybe both. 

“I really don’t remember it, Hunter. I’m sorry,” he added after a few seconds. 

Silence. Then, “Oh.” That was all. 

“Hunter?” 

“Seven tomorrow okay?” Hunter asked, tentative this time. 

“I’ll pick you up.” 

“What makes you think you’re driving?” That was the Hunter he was getting to know – bantering, sarcastic, the tension in his voice relaxed. 

“I asked you. I get to drive,” Cam informed him. 

“Fair enough,” Hunter conceded. “See you then.” He hung up abruptly in a manner similar to his vanishing act. Cam smiled at the phone, tiny butterflies performing excited backflips through his insides. _I have a date. With Hunter._ It was amazing how happy that made him feel. 

* * *

Hunter was late, and it was raining. 

It took him almost fifteen minutes to answer the door, except for a shouted “Just a sec!” when Cam first knocked. Cam eyed him suspiciously when he did open the door, but Hunter looked the same as he always did. 

“What took you?” 

“Oh, you know.” Hunter grinned at him. "Takes a while to get ready. That's how it's supposed to work." 

Cam chuckled and closed the door, peering into the worsening rainstorm before replying. “Cute.” 

Hunter dropped his hand and grinned. They both made a dash for the car, trying to stay as dry as possible. It was a fairly moot point. “Where are we going?” Hunter asked once they reached it. 

“I thought you knew.” Cam paused in the act of buckling his seatbelt. 

“Hey, you drive, that’s your job.” 

“I thought the girl picked the place,” Cam said innocently, pulling onto the street. 

Hunter thwapped him. 

“Hey!” Cam protested mock-seriously. Hunter didn’t lower his arm afterwards, though, propping it on the back of the seat and letting his hand rest on Cam’s shoulder. It felt warm through his wet shirt, and Cam instinctively leaned into the light touch. 

“So you still haven’t told me where we’re going,” Hunter pointed out. 

“It’s a secret. If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” Cam glanced over to see Hunter’s reaction. 

Hunter made a face at him before muttering, “Ha.” 

Cam looked back towards the road, easing his foot off the gas as a red light gleamed through the rain. Just as he started to slow down, it changed to green and he pressed the accelerator again. 

“Cam!” Hunter’s warning came just as he saw it – headlights looming out of the downpour, straight ahead of them and approaching fast. Whether he had drifted into oncoming traffic or was facing a driver charging down the wrong lane, he would never know. Instinctively protecting Hunter – _civilian!_ – Cam wrenched the wheel to the right and slammed down the brakes. His too-light car fishtailed on the water-slick road, and time suddenly slowed to a crawl. 

Raindrops crawling infinitesimally downwards reflected and magnified the bright white light of the other car, throwing miniscule rainbows through Cam’s vision as the other driver skidded directly towards him, tires weaving in an uncontrolled slide. Cam was aware of Hunter reaching towards him, shouting something distorted into incoherence, and then the glass shattered and all he could see was the light. 

* * *

The light shifted, mutating into inky shadow punctuated by bright flashes. 

Fleeting images chased each other down, flickering, existing barely long enough for him to register their presence before flashing out. A few lingered longer – 

– himself in a graduation cap and gown – 

– the samurai star megazord crashing under inexperienced hands – 

– blake, restrained and screaming – 

– the sun shining over a restored academy – 

– hunter’s street bike a smoking ruin – 

– but these faded away just as surely. Cam ( _is that my name?_ ) was barely aware then of darkness and silence, of gentle warmth bathing his face and icy liquid rustling over the fingers of one outstretched hand. After what could have been an eternity, even these dim sensations began to recede. Just before they vanished altogether, he thought he heard voices, panicked and urgent, and he found the strength to hang on a little longer. He had one last fleeting sensation of pressure on his chest ( _I’m dreaming again_ ) before he was finally plunged into absolute blackness. 

* * *

Someone was holding his hand. He knew this because he could feel warmth and light pressure on his skin. It felt nice. He let his mind dwell on the sensation for a few moments, before sleep began to creep over him again. 

“Cam.” 

The voice brought him partially out of his half-aware state, sparking mild irritation. _Why won’t you let me sleep?_

“Cam.” 

Was that Hunter? He wasn’t sure. The name that the insistent voice triggered seemed familiar, but he didn’t know why. It carried pleasant associations, as if “Hunter” was someone whose voice he was glad to hear. It occurred to him, in a drifting sort of way, that he should perhaps respond in some way, since this Hunter kept calling his name. With that in mind, he managed to squeeze the hand encircling his. 

“Cam!!” The response was immediate and intense, the pressure against his skin multiplying to the point of causing pain. Cam instinctively tried to pull away, but the motion in and of itself triggered a whole new cascade of agony and in that moment he fully awoke and _remembered_. 

The Rangers. Lothor. The other world. The date. The crash. All of it. 

Without thinking, Cam blindly reached for Hunter, relief momentarily overriding every other emotion. He buried his face in Hunter’s shirt. “You’re all right. You’re all right.” He couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. “You’re all right…” 

“It’s okay, Cam.” Hunter pushed him back down, gently but firmly. Cam let him do it; the pain was subsiding, but he still felt like he had been hit by a truck. Which, he reflected, was probably the case. “Blake’s okay, too,” Hunter added, almost as if it were an afterthought. 

Cam frowned. Blake hadn’t been in the car; why did Hunter think he’d be worried about _him_? He was about to ask, but something else caught his attention. “I can’t see.” 

“Your eyes are closed,” Hunter said, sounding amused. Once Cam actually tried to open his eyes, it proved ridiculously easy; he had no idea why he hadn’t done it before. The room around him was darkened, and its outlines were slightly blurred. Cam raised a hand carefully to his face; his glasses were missing. _That explains one thing._

Hunter’s footsteps were all the warning he had before painfully bright light flooded the room. Cam instinctively threw up a hand to shield his eyes, effectively blinded. 

“Oops,” Hunter muttered. “Sorry.” 

Cam squinted and eventually managed to see his surroundings. “This…” He rubbed his eyes with an aching hand. Another hospital room. He was starting to get really tired of those. He could see Hunter clearly now, and he noticed that Hunter sported some spectacular bruises as well as bandages peeking out from underneath the neck of his crimson shirt. _Guess he had to wear his color sooner or later._

“Someone should be here in a few minutes,” Hunter said, distracting him from his thoughts. “I’m not really supposed to be in here, so…” He glanced around. Cam nodded, and Hunter touched his shoulder lightly before slipping noiselessly out of the room. Cam blinked at his exit. He would have thought a car crash would make Hunter less graceful, not the other way around. He wasn’t given time to dwell on the observation, for shortly after Hunter’s disappearance, a nurse bustled in and started asking him questions. 

Cam quelled his irritation at the content of those questions – name, date, address, how many fingers was she holding up, ad infinitum. Once or twice, she frowned as she recorded his answers. Afterwards, she shone a light in each of his eyes and checked his reflexes. “What’s the last thing you remember?” she asked finally. 

“The car,” he replied. _headlights approaching – fast – too fast –_ “I was driving. And I saw another car in my lane. That’s it.” 

“Where?” 

Hunter should have told her. Failing that, the paramedics should have. “I’m not sure.” He wasn’t; he didn’t remember where, exactly, they’d been headed. “Didn’t Hunter tell you?” 

“One of the boys who brought you in?” She shook her head. “None of your friends could say what had happened.” 

“Friends?” 

The nurse consulted a clipboard. “Shane Clark, Tori Hanson, Waldo Brooks, and Hunter and Blake Bradley.” 

“Oh.” That was odd. Why would the Rangers’ mirrors have taken him to the hospital? After an accident like that, there should have been paramedics, police, some kind of report. 

“The doctor will be in shortly. You’re very lucky, Cameron.” The nurse smiled. 

The doctor, when he came in, told Cam the same thing; that he was lucky to have escaped so lightly, that he would be sore for a few days, and that he could leave at any time. Cam didn’t wait to be told twice; he grabbed the clothes on the chair and walked out. 

Only Blake was in the waiting room when he made his rather slow way there. Blake’s left arm was in a sling, starkly obvious against his navy shirt. _Maybe that’s why Hunter said he was okay. What happened to him?_ “The guys had to leave,” Blake said after looking around warily. “There was some… trouble.” 

_Trouble?_

“Are they all right?” 

“Don’t worry.” Blake was trying for soothing, and he couldn’t quite pull it off. “Your dad said to take you home.” 

“Okay.” Cam started for the door. If they really needed his help, Blake would have told him. “Thanks for taking me home, Blake.” Didn’t hurt to remind him, though. “Let me know if I can do anything.” 

“They’re _fine_. You’re going _home_.” Cam eyed Blake; the Navy Ranger’s mirror had put way too much emphasis on those words. 

“Are you sure…” 

“Yes.” Blake took him by the elbow and steered him towards the parking lot. 

“All right, all right.” He capitulated. Blake was nervous about something, and he wasn’t going to make it worse. “Isn’t that Tori’s van?” 

Blake helped him into the passenger seat before answering. “Yeah. Safer.” 

_Safer than what?_ It was too much trouble to ask, and since Blake didn’t say anything, he was content to simply watch the passing scenery until Blake’s voice roused him from the half-daze he’d fallen into. 

“We’re here.” 

Cam climbed out of the van without really looking around. “Oh good,” he said absently, and then he noticed his surroundings. Blake had taken him to the clearing that held the portal to the Academy in his world. “What are we doing here?” 

Blake gave him a Look. He must have learned it from Hunter, Cam thought vaguely. “Maybe I should take you back to the hospital.” 

“Ha, ha. I’m fine.” 

Blake rolled his eyes. “Come on, then.” He walked towards the waterfall, smoothly stepping across the rippling surface of the pool and activated the Portal. 

Cam’s knees gave out, and he collapsed onto the grass. _I’m… I’m home…_

“Cam?” Blake turned around and started back. 

“ _Hunter_.” He had to go back – he’d totaled the car with Hunter _in_ it. Cam scrambled to his feet and started towards the van. 

“Hunter’s _fine_ , Cam!” Blake ran after him, caught him by the shoulder. “We’ve fought Lothor’s monsters tons of times. You’re in no shape to fight right now.” 

“No! Not that Hunter! The other one! I have to go back to the other world!” He tried to pull away from Blake, but one-armed or not, Blake was stronger. 

“It’s okay, Cam, take it easy. Calm down.” Blake’s firm grip on him belied his calming tone. 

“I am calm!” Cam retorted, knowing that he was anything but. Distantly, he was aware that he was hysterical, but that didn’t make him any calmer. “I have to go back – to see if he’s all right!” 

“Back where?” Blake was humoring him. He could tell. 

Cam answered him anyway. “The other world. Where I’ve been for the past four months!” He struggled, trying to pull free, but when Blake suddenly let go, he was unprepared and stumbled backwards. 

“Sorry, man,” Blake said. 

“What-“ was all he managed before Blake’s fist impacted and he slid to the ground, still conscious but unable to move. Blake picked him up with his good hand; it took him several tries before he finally got Cam off the ground and supported him through the Portal. 

“Cameron.” His father’s voice sounded like it was coming from a long way away. His vision cleared, and Cam found himself staring at the ceiling of Ninja Ops. 

“Dad.” He had to try twice to get his voice to work. “What happened?” Other than Blake hitting him, he meant; he was perfectly well aware of _that_. 

His father knew exactly what he was asking. “Lothor’s monster set a trap for you and the other Rangers,” Sensei said gravely. Cam could see him now, in his guinea pig form. “When you went to save Hunter and Blake, his bomb exploded. Fortunately, they were not inside the building; they never were. By the time you went inside, they had already escaped. After the explosion, the Rangers found you and took you to a nearby hospital.” 

“You weren’t breathing,” Blake interjected. “You wouldn’t –“ 

“Blake!” 

“Sorry, Sensei.” 

“The Rangers were waiting for you, but one of Lothor’s monsters is now at the edge of the city. They are handling it.” 

There was so much to take in. Cam focused on what seemed to be the most relevant fact. “But… that was four months ago. I was out of it that long?” 

“Dude, it was yesterday.” Blake and his father exchanged looks. “Yesterday.” 

“But…” It was too much. “I’ve been in another world for the last four months. Since September. This month is January!” 

“Maybe I _should_ take him back,” Blake said to Sensei. 

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not here!” 

“What do you remember, Cam?” Sensei hopped up on his chest, preventing him from moving. Ninja master or no, he wasn’t about to send his father tumbling downwards. It just wasn’t dignified. 

So he told his father what had happened, instead. He told him about waking up in the other world, and about discovering that it had no Rangers, no ninja elements. That he had tried so hard to get home, and had failed. And finally, he talked about the crash that had apparently served as a catalyst to send him back. He could still hear the glass shattering. 

“But that’s impossible,” Blake said when he finished. “It only took us a few minutes to find you. There’s no way you could have spent four months –“ 

“I was there!” He wasn’t so certain now. “I was…” It struck him suddenly how odd Blake looked in his signature color. 

“It is not impossible, Blake.” Sensei regarded the Navy Ranger for a moment and then turned his bright eyes on Cam. “But it is improbable.” 

“Are you saying it was just a dream?” That wasn’t possible. It just wasn’t. But even as he tried to convince himself, he realized that the memories were dimming, becoming one step removed from everything else. 

“I do not know.” Sensei shook his head. “There is much in this world we do not understand, Cam.” 

“But –“ Cam broke off his protest, unsure of what he really wanted to say. He was back home, and nothing had changed. And at the same time, everything was different. _I should be ecstatic._ Instead, he just felt numb. 

“Get some rest, Cam. You will feel better tomorrow.” Sensei patted his chest with one furry paw and hopped down. 

“I should at least keep an eye on the others, and send the Zords when they need them.” Cam sat up and turned towards the computer. That, at least, remained unequivocally familiar. 

Sensei sighed. “All right.” His miniature habitat rolled out of the main control room, but his gaze remained fixed on Cam until he had gone. 

The fight gave Cam something to concentrate on that was wholly of this world, and he almost curiously watched four of his spandex-clad teammates struggling for survival against a misshapen beast. Just as he placed his hands over the keys, the monster swelled to an improbable size, and Shane’s voice sounded over the comm. 

“We could really use the Zords about now, CyberCam!” 

“Wouldn’t you rather have them from the real thing?” Cam’s fingers danced over the keys in a routine he didn’t consciously remember until after he’d gone through it. 

“Hey, Cam!” Shane’s voice was joined by Dustin’s and Tori’s, the three of them cheerfully welcoming him back. They were interrupted as the enlarged monster tried to step on the four of them. Hunter knocked Dustin clear and grabbed Tori, leaving Shane to his own devices. The Red Ranger ducked out of the way just in time. 

“Cam, now would be a good time,” Hunter snapped. 

That was the Crimson Ranger, all right. “Four Zords, coming right up.” Cam hit the release and sent the giant mechas on their way. One surprisingly short fight later, the Zords returned to their containment fields. The Rangers poured into Ninja Ops, laughing and chattering on a post-battle high. 

“Did you see that? I totally nailed it!” 

“What do you mean, you? That was all of us!” 

“Yeah, but –“ 

“Lothor won’t send anything like _that_ again!” 

“Dude, we so rock!” 

The Wind Rangers were laughing, Cam amended. Hunter was standing just inside the doorway, looking intently at nothing. 

Blake walked over to his brother and slapped him on the shoulder with his good hand. “Hey, bro, that was awesome.” 

“Yeah,” Hunter said distractedly. His eyes narrowed and he shifted his attention to Blake. “How long before you heal?” 

“Less time than it’ll take for you,” Blake’s expression changed. “You shouldn’t have gone.” 

Cam was aware of the Wind Rangers’ exuberance at the edge of his mind, as they offset the odd intensity surrounding the Thunder Rangers. At the moment he registered the dissonance, the Wind Rangers seemed to pick up on it as well, and they rapidly became silent. 

“It was fine.” Hunter shrugged. 

Blake opened his mouth, presumably to reply, but then he suddenly looked at Cam. Cam glanced away, and when he looked back, Blake was smiling at Hunter. “Take it easy, bro.” He turned towards the Wind Rangers, who promptly pretended that they hadn’t been watching Hunter and Blake almost argue. “Yo, Dustin. Didn’t you say you landed a new trick on your bike yesterday?” 

“Dude, what are you talking abou-“ Dustin started, but at a sharp look from Blake, he broke off. Confusion still etched over his features, he picked up the sentence again. “Oh. Uh. Yeah. Let’s go and I’ll, um, show you.” 

“Great.” Blake steered Dustin towards the door. “You guys want to come, right?” He eyed Shane and Tori. Clearly wondering what Blake was up to, they both hesitantly agreed. 

Cam watched as Blake chivvied the Wind Rangers out of Ninja Ops with a slight feeling of disbelief. What did Blake think he was up to? 

Hunter glared at his brother’s retreating back, and Blake turned around to give him a little wave and a smile. Cam could read Hunter’s expression, and to him it plainly broadcast both irritation and gratitude. He wasn’t sure he would have been able to see that four months ago. _Or was it only yesterday?_

Hunter meandered farther into the room, looking everywhere but directly at Cam. Cam folded his hands together and waited for Hunter to say whatever it was that was bothering him. He was almost certain Hunter was about to lay into him for acting so stupidly, for going into the building when the Thunder Rangers hadn’t actually been inside it in the first place. He was suddenly reminded of how much he was going to miss Hunter’s mirror. 

“Thanks,” Hunter said abruptly, still not looking at Cam. 

“For what?” He should have known that Lothor’s monster wouldn’t actually lead them to where it had been holding Hunter and Blake. 

“For going in there after us.” 

“You’re welcome,” Cam said, surprised. “You would have done the same-“ 

“Yeah,” Hunter agreed, just a little too quickly. He fell silent again. 

“Hunter-“ Cam started, just as Hunter began to speak. “Go ahead.” 

“I… Glad you’re back.” Hunter was finally looking straight at him, and his expression was one that Cam had seen on Hunter’s mirror’s face several times but never before on Hunter. Cam finally understood that it didn’t matter whether or not his experience had been real in the barest sense of the word. He had survived, and changed, and learned. He had to believe that everything would work out in that world, if it existed, because he couldn’t ever go back to it. He had to live in this one. It was… right. 

“Yeah,” Cam said simply, and smiled back at Hunter. “Me, too.”


End file.
